#got it all booked. filled in all the paperwork. asked what i was allowed to do

[choking-on-roses]

*gets told "no" any time I try to do anything*

*wonders why I have anxiety*

[itsdeny]

♯┆A Midnight Surprise .ᐟ

───☁️─────────────☁️ ───

— – pairing : kakashi hatake x gn!reader

— – word count : 1611

— – tags : fluff, marriage, hokage!kakashi

— – summary : your overworked husband is expecting a scolding but comes home to an unpredicted surprise instead

— – notes : happy (late) birthday to kakashi! I thought it’d be nice to write a little happy one-shot for him since he hasn’t gotten lots of chances to experience happiness in canon. Thanks for dropping by; enjoy!

───☁️─────────────☁️ ───

His face contorted into an expression of tiredness as he finally let out a sigh, the light from the screen slowly dying out with the computer being turned off, leaving the room devoid of any light.

Kakashi slowly got up from his seat. The introduction of computers in Konoha instead of papers didn’t mean there was any less paperwork for him to do; if anything, it assured the back pain caused by a long day of sitting down working would be accompanied by a persisting headache and blurry vision.

He looked up at the clock. Midnight already. At times like these, when he’d spent the entire day — hell, today he was lucky it was just the day — in his office, his first thought would be of Y/N.

The sole thought of their partner going to sleep yet again with nobody by their side was enough to fill him with guilt. And it’s not like Y/N ever made it an issue. They were a shinobi, a great shinobi at that, just like him; they were perfectly aware that Kakashi becoming hokage would come with as many privileges as burdens. And not once did they complain about that.

On his part, Kakashi always did his best to be a present partner, even when absent: leaving food ready for Y/N to eat, buying them books to read in their spare time, doing anything in his power to be home as soon as possible. But there was only so much one man — even one as incredible as the Kakashi Hatake — could do with the destiny of an entire village graving on his shoulders.

But that night was different.

Y/N had specifically asked for Kakashi not to be late that night, and yet there he was. Postponing appointments and rushing through meetings came down to nothing when Shizune last showed up with an emergency call from God-knows-who to solve God-knows-what.

And before he knew it, it was midnight.

He tried to pick up his things as rapidly as possible — something very uncommon for someone people would often mistake as half asleep — and made his way towards the door. With every step he took, he mentally measured the time left to his (or, actually, finally, their) house.

The silent empty streets, barely lit by the moonlight, were as if making fun of him; a quiet reminder of the dormant state of the village in which he and he only was still nowhere near the comfort of his bed, of his house, and of his partner.

His pace got quicker; and not even when the much familiar house finally presented itself behind the corner, not even then did he finally allow himself a break, the light coming from inside making him mentally curse himself. Did they wait for him awake? The mere thought filled him with guilt, even more than he already was. He had no clue what was going to be the deal about that night, why Y/N requested for that specifically: but he did know he owed them that much and a lot more, and so he never questioned it and instead, made it so that he would keep to his promise. And yet again, there he was.

He tried his best to keep his composure as he grabbed the door handle, (not so) ready to finally go inside. It even surprised him how much the unpleasant creak of the opening entrance startled him. After all, he wasn’t sure Y/N hadn’t fallen asleep with the lights on while waiting for him; the last thing he wanted was to be late and accidentally wake them up.

If his heart stopped, his thoughts did the complete opposite, thousands of them running through his mind the second he heard a sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. And just as he halted, so did the faint noise.

Twenty years (or was it? He didn’t care enough to count them before he met Y/N) of being a shinobi don’t teach you how to apologise for such a screw up; in fact, it wasn’t uncommon for the young hokage to (internally) panic at any given occasion, his lack of experience in relationships making room for lots of — although never ill intentioned — mistakes. He was a fast learner, though, and it showed by the way his head was hanging slightly lower than usual: he was getting ready for an apology, and a heartfelt one at that.

His train of thoughts (or, well, mostly worries) suddenly came to an halt.

“Kakashi…?”

The sound of the familiar voice made his heart sink, and it wasn’t long until panic took a hold of him again. He frantically took a few steps towards the kitchen, but he was quickly stopped.

“Don’t come in!” The voice spoke from the other room; although to his surprise, it sounded more like a plead than a reprimand.

“Honey, look, I-“ He began, taking half a step forward; but even his apology got cut short, making him feel — if possible — even worse.

“Don’t!” the voice demanded, and there was a hint of panic in it, “Just one second, please!”

Kakashi knew no better than to stand in the living room, nervously looking around; he did not like the tone he sensed in his partner — it made him all the more nervous, to be honest, — but the least he could do now was respect their wish to be left alone.

A few minutes went by, and the noise coming from the kitchen was of very little comfort: if, on one hand, it kept Kakashi company and reassured him that Y/N wasn’t asleep by themselves, or crying, or had moved out and left him forever (Kakashi was one very endearingly dramatic individual), on the other it kept him wondering just what the hell was going on. And after a while, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” The man asked stepping into the kitchen, breaking a promise for the second time that day. Y/N immediately turned on their back at the sound of his voice, a look on panic now on their face.

“I told you to stay out!” They yelled, and “I’m sorry, I swear I tried my best, ok? Please let me explain.” he apologised, failing to spot the soft blush of embarrassment on his partner’s cheeks.

And when he did, it all came into place.

Y/N’s hand brushed him off, a frustrated sigh leaving their mouth along with a whispered series of cursing; one to their partner, and one to themselves.

“…I messed up and had to start from the top. I needed more time.” they continued, but their words were met with silence. Kakashi’s eyes were still on the half-baked cake and decorations behind them.

“What…” he began, but barely managed to get the first syllables out. What was this? Why?

“I asked Shizune to buy me some time…” the explanation went on and on, but Kakashi was more confused with every thing that Y/N added.

“The one time you had to be late!” was the last thing they said, and their face was now lit up by a playful — if only a bit downbeat, though, from the disappointment of failing with the surprise — smirk that left no more room for confusion in Kakashi’s heart.

“Happy birthday.” they spoke.

But Kakashi couldn’t speak. Suddenly, everything made sense: Y/N asking him to come home early; everybody else conveniently playing with the hokage’s time, rearranging appointments and adding new ones to his already busy schedule as if purposefully trying to delay his departure.

He hadn’t even realised it was his birthday until now.

“It was all you…?” and as he finally realised, emotions he hadn’t felt in years — hell, he could say decades given he was now well past his thirties — threatening to resurface with every word he spoke.

A satisfied smile crept on Y/N’s face upon hearing Kakashi’s miserable attempt at containing his sentiment.

“I know you don’t care that much about your birthdays, but you’ve been working a lot lately and…”

“So you made me work more in order to surprise me, mh?” He raised an eyebrow, and now the both of them were chuckling lightly.

“At least I wasn’t actually late.” he added, his words accompanied not by a sigh of relief as one would expect; his eyes were fixated on Y/N’s, conveying every ounce of gratitude his words failed to. He was almost in a state of shock, still struggling to comprehend how someone could put that much effort into making his day special; let alone, someone he thought he had been letting down for a while now.

Not too far from feeling guilty for the amount of attention and care given to him, he finally got closer to the cake, to where Y/N was standing.

“You would’ve been late anyway,” Y/N joked in response, but this time it was them who got cut off by a sudden, gentle kiss placed on their forehead as they got pulled into an unexpected — yet surely craved — embrace.

“Thank you.” was all that was said after that, and it was enough.

And so the two stood like that, lovingly, in each other’s arms, for a very long time: Kakashi, mentally promising to Y/N that from that day on, he was always going to make it home in time to a partner he would love and appreciate as they deserved; and Y/N, whose racing mind was filled with battling thoughts, trying to decide whether or not to interrupt this rare, sweet moment to point out that the cake’s frosting was starting to melt.

───☁️─────────────☁️ ───

[treasure444]

Kinktober Day 2 (October 3)

Cockwarming with Simon! Prompt from @absurdthirst (this turned out so much more soft than I was expecting!!)

Kinktober Masterlist HERE

Nothing mattered more to you, than this moment right here. The serene, soft jazz music filling Simon’s small office. You had been sitting on the little couch in the corner, reading your smutty little romance novel as he did his reports. You had migrated to the small chair across from his large oak desk, capturing his complete attention. 

He had re-read the same line on his report at least four times. He couldn’t focus, you completely surrounded him; his mind, and his vision. No matter where he looked, a little piece of you was there. You had rendered him unable to think about anything or anyone else. Simon was enamored, though he’d never admit it if anyone asked him. 

You glanced up at him to find him already staring at you. “Are you okay, Si?” You kept your voice soft, not wanting to break the peaceful aura that surrounded the two of you. 

“C’mere” He mimicked your tone of voice as best he could. His voice took on a raspier tone, as he put the reports down and slid his chair back. 

You smiled, setting the book you were reading aside, and padded over to him. Settling into his lap, his hands grabbed onto your waist as he watched you. “What’s going on in that big head of yours?” You questioned. 

Simon shook his head, “wanted you closer.” His grip on your waist tightened, as if he were afraid his confession would scare you off. 

You giggled, “I was right across from you, Si. I wasn’t far.” Your hand played with the set of dog tags that hung from his neck. 

Simon hummed, “even on my lap, you’re not close enough, lovie. You can never be too close to me.”  

You internally melted, as you leaned down, and gently peppered kisses all across his neck and collarbones, “well,” You allowed your hand to drift down towards his crotch, “I know how I can be closer.” 

Slowly pulling his cock out, Simon’s breath got caught. “Doll, the paperwork.” 

You shushed him, slowly standing and removing your cargo pants before gently sinking down against him. “You are completely free to do your paperwork, Si. I’m just gonna sit here.” 

Simon’s eyes softened dramatically before pulling you into him and kissing the breath from your lungs. Pulling away slowly, you giggled, leaning your head against his shoulder as he pulled the chair in and started on he reports again.

[blu3-ja3]

Price is going through a box at his home when he finds it, it's in a dusty little black frame with the glass cracked that makes it impossible to see the picture. He handed it to Gaz asking him to remove the picture while he continued going through the box. Price forgets about the photo as he finishes going through the box.

It isn't until Price walks into the rec room a week later hearing everyone snickering around each other does he remember what the picture could be. He moves towards the table and sees the rest of his team sitting around O'Connor.

"So he didn't have the mustache until after going to Urzikstan?"

"He got sunburned constantly but because of his bucket hat it was just the lower half of his face. Then he noticed our captain, a big German lad with a massive beard, he didn't get sun burn when he wore his hat..." Price could hear the smile on O'Connor's face, she always enjoyed regaling the boys with stories of Price when a lieutenant and she a fresh faced sergeant.

"When John started growing his out it was nowhere near as glorious as it is now, it was all patchy and inconsistent. The only thing he could grow was a mustache, theirs a picture somewhere of mustache John. It's one of the last pictures of my old squad..." There's a sullen sadness in O'Conner's irish voice. John remembers taking the picture she's talking about it was the last one before O'Connor had to change squads. After she became a lieutenant... Transferred to a less active duty job so Will was better taken care of. It wasn't until he was in his early teens did O'Connor join back for active duty.

"WAIT! I'll be right back I think I know what picture you're talking about!" Gaz's voice came closer towards Price, he walks into the room as Gaz is about to leave.

"Going somewhere Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir, I've got something to show Captain O'Connor!"

Price steps to the side to allow Gaz to pass before moving to sit at the table. Ghost sat quietly reading, Soap had his newest sketch book and was filling pages, Roach was chatting away with O'Connor as she was writing. Price sat down next to his second captain and looked over her shoulder to see her filling out some paperwork.

There are rapid approaching footsteps as Gaz appears panting holding a familiar black picture frame. There's a glint of new glass in the frame, Gaz moves towards Price and sits down next to him placing the picture frame down on the table.

"Captain Price found this while we were going though some boxes at his house. Handed me this, got new glass for the frame."

"Yes this is it, Jaesus, that haircut!"

"Never understood why you kept it so short, you constantly complained about not being able to put it up."

"Old habit, it was one less thing for Oliver to grab when I was trying to get away. I started growing it out after I got the desk job and kept it long because I liked it."

Price remembers those times. When she'd come back from leave with fresh bruises, flinching every time someone raised a hand or a voice. It was relieving to watch her slowly come out of her shell, 8 years of watching her raise William and become more of herself.

"So who's all in the photo, that's Price and you but who else?" Gaz pointed to the 4 others in the picture.

"Well the tall gentleman with the glorious beard is Captain Müller, the lad in the sunglasses is Kinsley..."

"The muppet next to me is Evans and the bloke in the truck is Bernard."

"You look weird without your beard Cap."

"So when do we get to see clean shaven Captain Price?"

"Never, I worked too hard to get this beard to where it is."

"I think I'd leave you if you shaved it, I like the scruff!"

"Should I grow my beard out LT?"

"Your already pretty scruffy as is Suds"

"If you grow it out I'll shave it in your sleep Johnny!"

Everyone continues chattering away, doing nothing while waiting for their next mission.

COD Master List

[graysondarling]

Luke Castellan. Detention

Not set in riordanverse & highschool au!Luke; MASTERLIST

Luke Castellan X f!reader

Summary: "Well, well, look who's joined the detention club" Luke gets detention — He misplaced his history textbook, and what's better than stealing borrowing it from the library?

Warning: teenagers acting like teenagers, not a lot of dialogues, they have houses like the one in Harry Potter lol (only mentioned once) & Reader house is not mentioned, this is a bit boring

The detention room felt confined, with time moving at a snail's pace. Luke sat there, tracing imaginary patterns on the desk, the minutes ticking away like a never-ending countdown.

Just when he thought he was alone with the hum of Mr. D and the ticking of the clock, the door creaked open, and in walked (Name), a smirk on her lips.

"Well, well, look who's joined the detention club," Luke teased.

(Name) rolled her eyes and took the seat next to him. "Figured I'd keep you company. Detention is always more fun with a partner in crime, right?"

Luke couldn't help but chuckle — "Partner in crime, huh? I like the sound of that."

As the minutes passed, the two of them had whispered conversations, exchanged notes, and made light of the situation.

(Name) couldn't resist making fun of Luke's situation.

"So, what's the grand crime that got you in here, Luke?" she asked with a sly grin.

A few hours ago — LUKE CASTELLAN

Luke's risky textbook stealing borrowing scheme involved a well-thought-out strategy that, avoided the school administration's watchful gaze.

He may or may not have misplaced his textbook accidentally.. hahaha

However, this time, it was a classic case of overconfidence that led to his downfall.

Luke decided to carry out his plan during the school assembly, when most teachers were busy with maintaining the wandering student body under control.

Confident that he could slip in and out like a shadow, he ventured into the classroom, only to find himself face-to-face with the one teacher who had decided to stay behind to organize some papers.

As he reached for the textbook, Mr. Chiron looked up from his work and caught Luke in the act. The moment was frozen, and an uneasy silence filled the room.

Luke's grin faded into a sheepish smile as he tried to come up with a plausible excuse.

Mr. Chiron raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Luke Castellan, what exactly are you doing in here during the assembly?"

Luke scratched the back of his head, attempting to feign innocence. "Oh, you know, just wanted to get a head start on some reading. Education waits for no one, right?"

"Nice try, Mr. Castellan. I don't recall giving you permission to access the library during the assembly. Detention it is."

And that's how Luke's textbook borrowing adventure came to an abrupt halt, leading him to the very detention that (Name) chose to join.

Luke leaned in, a gleam in his eyes. "I may have liberally borrowed some textbooks without asking. The school administration didn't appreciate my innovative approach to study materials."

(Name) burst into laughter, earning them a stern look from Mr. D. "Classic Hermes house move. Couldn't just check out a classroom book like the rest of us, huh?"

"Where's the fun in that?" he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. "Besides, I thought it added a touch of rebellion to my academic pursuits."

The two of them continued to jokes, causing the otherwise boring detention surprisingly pleasant.

The more they chatted, the more (Name) realized there was more to Luke than his rebellious exterior.

They even swapped a few sarcastic comments about the school's absurd rules. (No phones allowed, must wear a tie all the time, don't run in the hallways (the usual))

The teacher on duty, Mr. D, sat at his desk, buried in paperwork (surprisingly) unaware.

Luke discreetly crumpled a piece of paper and passed it to (Name) with a glint in his eyes.

They exchanged a knowing look, silently agreeing on their next move. (Name), with a suppressed giggle, aimed the paper at the back of Mr. D's head and let it fly.

The paper landed with a soft thud, catching the teacher's attention. He turned around, narrowing his eyes at the seemingly innocent duo.

"Alright, who did that?" Mr. D demanded, scanning the room.

Luke and (Name) exchanged innocent glances, attempting to suppress their laughter. Mr. Anderson sighed, suspecting he was dealing with a pair of children.

As Mr. D returned to his paperwork, the both of them couldn't resist another attempt at amusement.

This time, Luke folded the paper into an aeroplane. With a quick motion, he launched it at Mr. D, causing it to glide gracefully through the air.

The paper airplane did a loop-de-loop before landing on Mr. D's desk, right in front of him. He looked up, a mix of irritation and bemusement on his face.

"Alright, that's enough. We're in detention, not a paper competition," he scolded, shaking his head.

Luke and (Name) exchanged a glance, barely containing their laughter.

As the final minutes of detention passed, Mr. D kept an eye on them, suspecting that more antics were on the way.

Luke and (Name), however, had already shared enough laughs to make their time in detention enjoyable.

Luke couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment as the clock ticked down to the end of their detention.

He glanced at (Name), a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Same time tomorrow, partner?"

(Name) raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. "Only if you promise not to get caught every time."

Luke chuckled. "Deal."

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

The Weeklong Date (pt. 1)

main masterlist

spencer reid x famous!reader Universe

word count: 1.5 k

warnings: suggestive (no smut)

Y/N had been staying with Spencer for 2 days now. The first day was slightly awkward, although Spencer and Y/N had met before, even kissed. This felt different, she flew out to see him. It felt more intimate.

Once the two got past their initial discomfort with each other, it was pure bliss. Sleeping in the same bed together, kissing each other good night. They hadn’t had sex yet, and usually that would cause Y/N to overthink, that maybe he didn’t like her, or wasn’t sexually attracted to her. But with Spencer it felt like all her normal worries, were just silly, nothing that surface level mattered. Just that he cared for her. And he did.

Y/N listening to Spencer talk about what book he read in the last 20 mins, while Y/N made them dinner. They couldn't exactly go out together with the possibility of Y/N being spotted, so they had been staying in the last couple days.

Today, the third day of Y/N being there, Y/N had forced Spencer into a movie marathon day. Spencer had to back to work tomorrow, still not being on cases, just a couple paperwork days.

They had already watch '10 things I hate about you' and 'When Harry met Sally' now onto 'You've got mail' one Spencer had a few problems with.

"But they've both been cheating on their partners! How am I supposed to root for them?" Y/N turns her head from laying on Spencer's chest to be able to face him when she says, "Spence, it's a romcom! You're supposed to throw out all logic!"

“What good is a piece of media, if I’m not allowed to apply critical thinking?” Seeing Spencer so worked up from one of her favourite romcoms, whether he likes it or not, makes Y/N’s chest fill with warmth. Y/N staring up at Spence, not saying anything, just smiling, and listening to him rant. Because Spencer showing this much emotion about it, no matter if it’s about how much he doesn’t understand or like it. It’s that he cares enough to watch it and have a strong opinion on it. No guy she’s ever been with had cared about the movies she liked like that.

“Spence. Can I kiss you?”

This causes Spencer to stop mid-sentence, turning away from the credits shown on the TV to look at Y/N. “Baby, you don’t have to ask.”

His words cause Y/N to smile, they hadn’t called each other pet names before, but that all leaves her mind when she feels Spencer smash his lips into hers. Y/N reacts instantly, her tongue licking at his bottom lip, begging for access. Spencer’s lips opening, allowing Y/N’s tongue to explore his mouth.

Spencer’s hands moving from their spot by his sides one to Y/N’s hip, the other pulling at one of her thighs to help her swing it over his legs, her hips now straddling his own. The kiss heating up, Y/N breaks their lips apart leaving them hovering over his, her lips brushing against his as she says,

“Can we move to your bedroom?” “Yes.”

Spencer rises from the couch, Y/N legs clinging around his waist, hands taking their place around his neck. Her lips finding the spot on his jaw, she had found the first time they had kissed in the pool.

As Spencer starts walking down the hall, towards his bedroom, Y/N starts untucking Spencer’s shirt from his pants pulling it over his head. When he shirt is removed she moves her lips to his collarbone and leaves kisses down his chest.

All the while, Spencer gets to his door and opens it, only after a slight bit of struggle to find the door knob. He then walks them both to his bed, letting Y/N fall onto the bed Spencer hovering over her, sliding his knee between her spread legs. Spencer reaches to the bottom of Y/N’s shirt pausing before tearing it over her head, asking, “May I?” “God, yes Spence.”

Lifting Y/N’s shirt over her head, showing her lace bra. One she wore just for him. He begins leaving kisses down her neck to her breasts kissing her clothed sensitive nipples, causing Y/N’s breath to hitch, letting a moan leave her throat when Spencer sucks at her skin below the underwire of her bra.

“Spence, please..” Y/N says, her chest heaving, just from what little Spencer had done thus far. She can’t imagine how she’ll act when he actually does something, but God she’s begging to find out.

“What do you want, baby?” Spencer says, looking up at her with an innocent look. Yet not stopping his kisses along her ribcage.

“You.”

-

A few rounds later the two lay, tangled in Spencer’s sheets, cuddling, Y/N’s head laying on Spencer’s naked chest, her left leg swung over Spencer’s thighs, his right hand laying on her thigh and his left arm cradling Y/N’s head.

“Tell me something about you.” Y/N says not looking up at Spencer, only gently tracing shapes on Spencer’s chest.

“What do you mean?” Spencer leans down to look at Y/N’s face, her leaning down to look at him.

“I feel like… I don’t know, I want to know everything about you.”

“Okay, where do you want me to start?”

“I guess, do you have any other hobbies? Other than reading every piece of Russian Literature?”

“I haven’t read every piece of Russian Literature-”

“Close to.”

“-but I also can do some close up magic-”

This causes Y/N to stop tracing shapes across Spencer’s naked chest, sitting up, the sheet around her body slipping down slightly, distracting Spencer momentarily until Y/N speaks again.

“What?! You can do magic? Oh my god, show me!”

Spencer sighs, leaning over Y/N to his bedside table to grab a pen and his journal, ripping out a piece of paper, then coming back to leaning his head on his pillow.

“Okay, here, I have this pen. Inspect it, no tricks?” Spencer hands the pen to Y/N. She inspects it more closely than Spencer thought she would, Y/N pulling off the cap, testing the ink on her skin, after deciding there was nothing out of the ordinary with the pen she hands it back to Spencer. He chuckles, taking the pen back from her hand.

“Okay, now I’m-”

“Wait! I didn’t inspect the paper.”

“I didn’t think you would need to.”

“Of course I need to.”

Y/N grabs the piece of paper from Spencer, quicking checking over the paper before handing it back to Spencer.

“Okay now, with just a bit of sleight of hand, I can slip the pen right through..” While talking the pen in Spencer’s hand goes right through the paper in his other.

“Oh my god! How did you do that?” Looking at Spencer in shock, turning from looking at him to the paper, then back to him.

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Spencers says leaning over to his side table putting the pen and paper in his drawer, turning back to Y/N, shock still still written across her face. “Why don’t we wash up in the bath together?” Spencer says, smiling widely, while wrapping his hands around Y/N’s waist.

“Ooh, yes please.”

-

The two were in the bath together. Spencer sitting behind Y/N, bubbles floating around them, the bottom of their wine glasses dipping into the water. Talking, not talking, just comfortable being with each other.

"Are you leaving tomorrow?” Spencer asks hesitantly, the question had been plaguing his mind all day, knowing he has to go back to work tomorrow.

"Do you want me to?” Y/N wasn’t planning on leaving tomorrow, she had packed her bag for a week long with Spencer.

"N-no, no I don’t want you to leave, just… I have work tomorrow, and I just assumed you wouldn’t want to sit around my apartment..” Y/N hadn’t even thought of what she would do while Spencer was at work, but thought of sitting in Spencer’s apartment cleaning, and cooking.. It felt domestic. And she loved it.

"I don’t know.. I could clean, and I could cook lunch and you could come back here during your break. I can keep myself busy. I could read one of your millions of books.”

“I don’t have millions of books, I have closer to a hundred.”

“Oh, sorry. I could read one of your hundred books.”

“Okay, and I’ll come back here for lunch.”

Y/N turns her head to face Spencer, smiling, and leaving a kiss on his cheek, turning back to face the end of the tub. Spencer sets his wine glass on the edge of the tub to wrap his arms tightly around Y/N’s waist, leaving kisses along her back and up to the back of her neck. His slight stubble tickled her skin, causing Y/N to laugh and spill her wine in the bath. Spencer chuckling, continuing to kiss across Y/N’s skin

“Stop! Spence- that tickles!” Y/N laughs out, raising her shoulders to her ears, in a way to stop Spencer. Even though she didn’t really want him to stop, if it was a choice she would choose for him to never stop.

[icarus-does-fall]

Alr alr

Simon x piercer/tattooer reader

I did my best to make my idea a thing 🤷‍♂️

Dub-con!! Trans Simon but it's not a major plot point, might make another one where it is

I just have brainrot and productive energy

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Simon “Ghost” Riley, a simple man. A stoic and dealy man. A man who was claimed to have no emotions, no connections. To be a ghost. Yet whenever you were around, he seemed to be less of a ghost, he seemed to be human.

Then there was you. You were bright and filled with life, colourful to say the least as you were covered in tattoos and piercing, after all that was your job. The cherry on top, you loved- sometimes you loved too much and got yourself hurt.

He was spending almost all his money on booking appointments at your shop, he never had valid reasons to see you outside your parlour just to see you, feel you. Yet you never minded, Simon was polite, while he didn't always hold the best conversations he never made you feel uncomfortable like some of your other clients did.

Plus maybe you had started to develop a slight crush on the rugged soldier that was constantly spending his free time with you instead of going out with his mates. He made you laugh, smile, and he had an oddly safe feeling about him.

Simon had been away on deployment for nearly a year and the first thing he did when he got back was book something with you. It was a piercing, and one of a particularly sensitive nature- He was asking to get a jacob's ladder done.

You almost didn't agree. You liked the guy and piercing his dick? That seemed to cross a few too many lines, yes it was your job but you were still human and sometimes it is difficult to separate work from life. Simon instead though, he trusted you, you had the experience with it, and he wanted that specific piercing done.

So stealing your emotions and doing your best to lock them all away in a cage so deep within you it wouldn’t be easily found you waited for Simon's appointment time, getting everything ready in the back room- You doubted the man wanted to expose himself to everyone else in the shop… A low blush rose to your cheeks as your thoughts tried to wander about.

What if he liked the public scene?

After all, you didn't know much about Simon other than what simple conversation would allow. He had a dog- A german shepherd. He smoked, sometimes you’d smoke with him. His best mate was named Soap and he drank whiskey. And he was possibly trans? One of the first tattoos you did for him was scar coverups on his chest, but you weren't going to ask any questions. Scar cover ups were one of your specialties. Most people came to you for those types of tattoos specifically.

But his more personal details? Those you weren’t sure about.

Quicker than you thought the time for Simon's appointment showed up. He walked into the shop, looming like a shadow, before seeing you at the counter and his entire mood lightened up.

“Hey lovie.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh. “Hey again Si, fill out your paperwork, I’ll get everything set up in the back for you. And how's that last tat treating you? It heal okay?”

Simon shrugged and then rolled up his sleeve, the newest addition was still slightly red but the tattoo seemed to have healed without issue. It was a bundle of wisteria flowers, one of the few tattoos that you were given full control over. It was just a space filler.

“It’s fine, the lads thought it was too… girly ‘suppose but I like it just fine.”

You pouted playfully while heading to the back room. “Aw ‘just fine’? Thought we’ve moved into actual compliments before you left, you get tired of talking all that much on deployment or somethin?”

Simon merely huffed as he filled out his paperwork and then placed it on the counter. He liked talking to you, he did. Just sometimes his words failed him.

After a few minutes you were ready and called him back. He listened like a well trained dog, raising from where he was sitting without a work and went to where you were. If he had a tail it would be wagging.

Simon closed the door behind him and simply stood there a bit awkwardly as you had just finished wrapping the chair for him to sit on. Your face flushed slightly, it wouldn’t have been noticeable if Simon was as trained as he was to notice the small details.

“You gotta strip Si-” Now your blush was noticeable, it flared brightly. “Not! Not completely! But you gotta lose the trousers before you sit down-”

Simon chuckled slightly at your flustered state. And whether he meant to or if it was all subconsciously done, he slowly undid his belt and took off his pants. You had to force yourself not to stare at him. He took his spot on the chair and got comfortable to the point it’d be easier for you to pierce him.

You rolled your chair in between his legs, your tray of tools right next to you. You looked up at him, doing your damnedest to stay professional. “This will hurt, like… a lot Simon.”

He nodded and sighed out softly, he was thanking every god possible right now that he had his mask on to hide his own flushed face. “I know, go ahead.”

Now Simon wasn’t huge by any means, but he wasn’t small either, but he was girthy. Something that sparked your interest though was the scar lines down there. He unknowingly sent butterflies straight to your stomach as you tried not to blatantly stare at his half exposed body.

With a steady hand but a shaky resolve you took his dick into your hand, tentatively wiping it down with a alcohol wipe and then marking where the piercings needed to go. You were doing three this session. Simon tensed up under your touch and a soft groan slipped past his lips as you began. You froze, mistaking that groan for discomfort and not something else.

“You alright Si, something feel wrong?”

He merely shook his head and then nodded, gesturing for you to continue. You did.

So you lined up the needle with the first mark and went through the skin.

“Fuck! Jesus lovie! Can't give a guy some warning before you stab ‘em?”

You chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry about that Si… First one alway hurts more than the rest, and we still gotta put the barbell in too.”

“Christ-” Simon sighed and laid his head back against the hair, he was trying not to pant or focus on how your hand felt wrapped around his dick- Or the thoughts that followed. He doubted you even liked him, plus it was damn near unprofessional to think like that while you were working.

You apologised once more before putting the barbell into the first piercing, Simon let out another groan as you did that, and then you wiped down the piercing, cleaning it of the small bits of blood that’d showed up. Then you moved onto the second one. Simon's groans got a bit louder and he was biting his lip to hold back the moans that threatened to slip out. The third one went in without issue as well, but by now Simons dick was aching- From both the piercings and how you had been handling him.

He was all but dripping precum with each new piercing and touch of your hand, which you both were trying to ignore. Your heart was racing and your face flushed, Simon was refusing to look in your direction as you worked.

As you pulled away after finishing cleaning him and then took your gloves off you casted a glance over towards Simon. “How's it look? Everything feel okay?”

Simon laid still for a few moments after you began your clean up before he sat up slightly and looked to see how the piercings were done, forgetting just for a moment that you were in the room and ran a hand across the piercings.

He unintentionally came with that action of his. All over the chair and his thighs. He groaned out quietly and moaned and then he blushed hard, becoming nothing but a flustered and stuttering mess.

“Fuck lovie- That wasnt supposed to, ain’t mean to… ‘M not that used to having it yet… I'm sorry, fuck im sorry lovie, makin a mess all over your work stuff not professional at all.”

Your face had gotten bright red and you’d froze in your spot, your eyes couldn’t help but to be drawn towards Simon's leaking dick which was now covered in cum. His words pulled out of your mini trance and hurriedly gave him a few paper towels to clean up with, but he was too focused on apologising to realise you were trying to help.

Taking a breath you tried to steel your nerves and then placed your hand on Simon's calf. It's what was closest to you and you didn’t want to make him- or you comfortable. “Si, calm down- it’s okay honestly… You think you're the first guy who's been a little sensitive after this type of piercing?”

Simon's blush was now visible, even underneath his mask, and he was still avoiding looking at you as he cleaned himself up. His words were mumbled and hard to hear and he was still slightly hard making things worse. “Well… Probably the first to like you as ya do it… As it happens…”

You still heard him though, and you bit your lip while trying to find the words. What were you supposed to do? Admit your possible feelings while he was half naked and covered in cum? Well… you probably shouldn’t but you wanted it. He was a sight to see like that, hell he was whining and desperate for forgiveness. That sight, those feelings, it made your stomach coil.

So what did you do? Breaking all your rules, every boundary you’d been trying to set this entire session, you touched him without having a job to do. Your hands traced along his bottom surgery scars- Simons hands stilled and he looked up at you confused.

“Wha-”

Your hands trailed down to caress his dick and gently you milked out the rest of his come. Simon's eyes fluttered closed and he was reduced to a moaning mess. “L-lovie, what are you doing? Wh-why? What?”

You continued to stroke Simon's dick, careful to avoid the piercings you just placed, technically, for everything to heal correctly you shouldn't have been doing that but you were being careful. “Just wanna show you it's okay, nothing to be sorry for, yaknow?”

Another strangled moan fell past Simon's lips and his dick was twitching in your hands, you looked up at him through your lashes and then leaned forward, kitten licking his tip for a few moments before fully licking him clean. One of his hands ended up threaded through your hair, not wanting you to pull away just yet until there wasn't any cum left.

Finally when you pulled away after he’d been cleaned up, he was gripping onto the chairs armrests and panting softly, you on the other hand while blushing looked similar to how a cat looks after catching the canary.

“Well damn lovie… Fuckin hell… Wasn’t expecting that type of aftercare-”

“You taste pretty good Si…” You laughed softly and licked your lips, “Can I get another taste later?”

Simon groaned out softly and slouched back against the chair he was sitting in again as he caught his breath and once his head was clear he got dressed again and then bit his lip as he walked over towards where you were.

“You're a different type of crazy lovie, make things interesting… It’s why you're my favourite.” He sighed and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Coffee sometime then?- Or dinner?”

You laughed and kissed Simon's cheek through his mask. “I do what I can~ And I would love to, been wanting that for a while actually.”

[eternalchaoschocolaterain]

The Most Powerful Waitress

Chapter four

Chapter one: School's out

Chapter two: I'd hire me

Chapter three: No cure for me

Chapter five: Patience

Chapter six: I don't know

Chapter seven (final chapter): No one knows

Rinse and repeat

It hadn’t taken Merula long to find a new job. The accidental magic reversal squad was desperate for new recruits, which should have been her first sign to run. Even if she’d only worked there for a few hours, it had been a nightmare. Cleaning up after people who did stupid things was not the job for her. She should’ve known, instead of getting sacked for the second time. What a start to her career.

She paced around her house, unable to sit down. What the fuck was she supposed to do now? Every other job sounded more boring than the next, but without a job she couldn’t build experience, couldn’t show people her capabilities. What other jobs were out there that she hadn't thought of yet? She paused. What other jobs <i>were</i> out there? She went into the library, there had to be something here that could help her. Her library had never let her down before.

The library was her favourite room. Despite its size it still managed to feel cozy, with the fireplace casting a red glow on everything and the smell of books. Three of the walls were lined with blue bookshelves and the other had a large fireplace with the best sofa she ever sat in. The thing was light blue, soft, large and square, making it so she had room to stretch out any way she liked. There were pillows in all shapes and sizes, so she could be comfortable in any position. She pulled out some books for inspiration and stretched out.

Accountant? Yeah never. Pouring over numbers all day sounded dreadful. What could be worse than filling other people’s taxes? She’d rather go back to the reversal squad. Architect? She had never been interested in buildings, but having her name on one did sound good. As she progressed through the books, she noted the jobs that did sound interesting: auror, duelling champion, potioneer, researcher at the department of mysteries. Maybe even curse-breaker after all. Or maybe even a desk job. Surely there had to be paperwork that mattered?

‘Ru, you’re not going to believe this.’

Merula sat up when she heard Quinn, who had been out all day. She’d met up with Haywood in Diagon Alley, so Merula expected to hear all kinds of gossip when she got back. But Quinn’s face was a mixture of emotions she didn’t expect to see if this was solely about gossip. She rearranged her books and notes, allowing Quinn room to sit next to her.

‘What?’

‘I found a place, or Pen did. She asked me if I had a house yet and when she heard I didn’t, she came with this one.’

Her eyes widened. Even though she didn’t know what to guess, this hadn’t crossed her mind. She scrambled for a response, but all that came out was, ‘Oh’.

‘I mean it’s perfect.’ Quinn’s eyes gleamed as she spoke.

Normally Merula would’ve found this sweet, but right now it was all she could do not to snap. But she didn’t, because after all, not moving in together yet had been her idea.

‘It’s this little studio in a side street of Diagon Alley, I’ll be in the middle of everything! And it’s quite cheap because it’s so small. But I still can’t afford it right now, I only had enough for the deposit. I tried to tell Pen that I still don’t know when I’ll start working, but you know how she is. She paid the first month rent and insists she will pay more until I can pay her back. She’s going to help me move in tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?!’

‘Yes and Andre is coming too, we bumped into him running an errand. He wants to get me curtains and needs to measure the windows. And-’

‘Wait, let me guess, house warming party on Saturday?’ Merula couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. This went waaay to fast. She’d never expected Quinn to find a house the first day she went back to real life. In her mind Quinn would’ve taken a few weeks at least to find something. She crossed her arms in a huff. ‘You could’ve just left if you wanted to get away from me so bad.’

‘What are you getting at? Not moving in yet was your idea. You said you needed your space.’

‘I’m not making you move out right now! You can take months, I don’t care.’

She wouldn’t have minded. This whole vacation had gone better than she could’ve imagined. She’d worried Quinn would’ve wanted to spend every second together, which she did, but she hadn’t complained once about Merula’s need for time alone. Which to Merula’s surprise she hadn’t needed as much of as she thought. Reading together in silence worked as well as reading alone. They had a few arguments, mostly in the morning, but nothing serious.

Mornings turned out to be much better together. Waking up with cuddles and having nice breakfasts made for a great start of the day. Being together had been the best anyway. This whole time they’d been able to cuddle, kiss and everything else whenever they wanted. No one to look out for or having to be worried about being interrupted. They’d have to schedule time for that now, starting tomorrow apparently!

‘You’re just in a hurry to leave me!’

‘I’m not! I would stay if you asked.’

‘I’m not going to beg you to stay. I don’t need you.’ Merula spat. ‘Just go and have fun with your friends.’

‘Fine.’ Quinn’s voice had gotten soft and low and Merula knew she hurt her. But at the moment she didn’t care. She wasn’t the one that had decided to leave! ‘I guess I’ll go tell Pen that we can have the housewarming this weekend.’ Quinn got up and sped out of the library.

Of course something like this would happen. She should have known, nothing good ever lasted. Let Quinn tell Haywood to have that stupid party, but they better not invite her!

Wait.

She got up and hurried to her bedroom. Quinn’s trunk laid open on the bed and Quinn stood next to it, gesturing at the large wardrobe. Clothes flew out, folding themselves on top of each other. She raised her eyebrow at Merula for a moment, but kept her focus on her clothes. Merula leaned against the doorpost and watched her. Despite her conflicting emotions, she couldn’t help but marvel at Quinn’s seemingly effortless use of both wandless and non-verbal magic. She’d taught her well.

‘There's no housewarming party this weekend?’

‘Give me a moment and there will be.’

‘I thought you’d have one.’

‘I will, but I wanted to do it next weekend. I wanted to spent time with you, but I guess you did get tired of me.’ She kept gesturing at her clothes.

‘I didn’t.’ Quinn gave her an expectant look and Merula sighed. ‘I want to spent time with you too.’

She finally stopped moving her clothes. ‘You know, this is fast for me too. But I’m not passing up on a perfect studio just because it’s fast. Besides Penny wouldn’t let me anyway.’ Quinn smirked a little and Merula rolled her eyes.

‘Typical Haywood.’ They were both silent for a few moments. ‘So, uh, you still want to come over?’

‘Yes!’ Quinn came over and hugged her tight. ‘I love spending time with you.’

‘Good.’ Merula hugged her back. It would take time to get used to this new reality. Outside of the summer vacations they’d seen each other every day for the past seven years. Every day! Now they would have to plan. She nuzzled Quinn’s neck, comforted by her familiar forestry smell, with hints of juniper and pine. It would be fine, things would be fine. They could plan. It wouldn’t change things, wouldn’t change them.

Quinn kissed the side of her face. ‘So, how was your day?’

‘It sucked. I need a new job.’

‘What went wrong with this one?’

‘People are dumb, that’s what went wrong.’ Her frustrations about the day resurfaced with a force and she let go of Quinn so she could fall backwards on her bed. ‘The reversal squad is all about cleaning up after dumb people doing dumb things and having to pretend it’s fine. It’s just a mistake. This can happen to anyone.’ Merula buried herself deeper into her bed with a groan. ‘I tried to be nice about it, but then we answered this call about a young man getting himself splinched.’

Of course it had to be Barnaby. He had been trying to get his apparition license. All he had left to do was to apparate from a field near the Forbidden Forest to the other side of Hogsmeade. Something he should have been capable of, but he failed because he saw a hippogriff flying over the forest. ‘A really pretty one!’ According to him. That unbelievable oaf got himself splinched over a hippogriff and ruined his exam. She hadn’t minced words when she saw him, because he should have done better. But her supervisor and Barnaby had for some reason decided she was rude and insulting, like it was her fault Barnaby had been as stupid as he had! But since she was so ‘difficult and rude’ she couldn’t be worked with and had to leave. Well, it wasn’t like she had enjoyed any second of that job, so good riddance to them!

‘Is Barnaby okay?’ Quinn asked when she finished. She had joined Merula on the bed, sitting cross-legged against the headboard.

‘Of course he is. They found his ear and toes and reattached them. He’s fine.’

‘Oh, good!’

They were silent for a moment and Merula decided to summon her notes. ‘I was actually doing research when you came in.’

Quinn looked them over. ‘Are you going to try any of these jobs?’

‘Of course, I’m not giving up. It’s just, I don’t know which one yet. I mean, I know I want something exciting. Can you imagine anything worse than being stuck with a boring job? These jobs sounded okay to me, but I don’t know. What do you think?’

‘I think you might make a great duellist. You’re fast, very brave and you pick up new things in a flash.’

‘I do like a good battle.’

A ticking noise sounded from the window before either of them could say something else. A long-eared owl perched on the window sill and continued tapping until Quinn opened the window. At the same time, Merula summoned the bowl of snacks she had for the owls that delivered the paper and brought it over.

‘It’s for me.’ Quinn sounded surprised when she took the letter. ‘And it’s blank.’

‘Let me see.’ Merula turned it around and cast a few spells, but the parchment remained blank. ‘Do you think someone is pranking you?’

‘I don’t know. It doesn’t even have a name- wait, look!’

Words appeared on the backside of the letter.

I can fill up a room and take no space. When I’m gone darkness takes my place.

‘A riddle, and a really easy one too.’ Quinn frowned, took the letter back and cast lumos on the parchment. Next moment dark blue ink appeared on the letter.

Dear Quinn Lee,

Your first day is tomorrow. Report to the ministry at half-past nine o’clock.

‘That’s it?’ She turned the letter around and shone the light there to no avail. ‘I still don’t know anything. Report to the ministry? Do they realise how big- Fuck!’ The letter went up in flames and Quinn flapped her hands around.

‘Come sit.’ Merula gestured at the bed and went to get burn-healing paste. She massaged Quinn’s hands when she applied it.

‘Thanks.’

‘So, tomorrow.’

‘Apparently, except I still don’t know where to go, or who to meet, or what I’ll be doing.’ Quinn pursed her lips. Then she perked up. ‘I’m going to make us a nice dinner.’

She got up so fast that her circle skirt twirled around her legs. Merula let her go and waited a bit before following her into the kitchen, giving Quinn a moment to gather herself and push any sort of anger or frustration down. Not that Merula would mind seeing Quinn like that. If you asked her, anger was a perfectly healthy outlet for frustration or just about any other feeling. Sometimes the world deserved to be set on fire. For some reason though, Quinn didn’t like being angry, especially not about things she couldn’t change. Or thought she couldn’t change, like this job. From what Quinn told her Moody and Dumbledore had arranged this job for her, expecting her to be grateful about it. Even though they never asked for her opinion. Merula couldn’t understand why Quinn worried more about disappointing them than having a job she wanted, but she thought getting angry was useless and she’d rather be happy. Whatever worked for her.

When she thought enough time had passed, she went to the kitchen. It had pink quartz countertops atop white cabinets running along two walls and a white sink underneath the window overlooking the garden. The table in the middle and its chairs matched the colour scheme, as did the stove that was built into the other wall. Her dad had done the kitchen and while Merula liked pink, this was too much. She’d thought about changing it numerous times and told herself to just take some time to at least try out some new colours, but for some reason she never did.

Quinn stood by the window, kneading some dough with such force that her ponytail swung from side to side. The muscles in her arms tensed as she pressed into the dough and folded it over and over. Merula walked over and put her arm around Quinn’s waist.

‘Fresh pasta?’

Quinn hummed an agreement.

‘Hey,’ Merula gently bumped her hip, ‘you’ll do fine tomorrow. You are the second most powerful witch, they are the ones who should feel honoured to get to work with you, not the other way around.’

‘I just wish I knew more about it. I don’t know what am I going to do, or where. I mean, do they even want me or did they get as much choice as I did?’

Ah, so that was her real issue. She should’ve known. ‘Oh please, everyone always loves you, where-ever you go. They might not know it yet, but they’re going to love you. It’s one of those annoying things about you.’

The corners of Quinn’s lips turned up a little. ‘You think so?’

‘No, I know so.’

‘Thanks.’

Quinn turned and gave her a quick kiss, which reminded Merula.

‘You forgot to greet me with a kiss today.’

A mischievous smile spread on Quinn’s face. ‘I did, didn’t I? I was hoping you forgot about it.’

‘Cheeky. I’ll keep that in mind when I think about a way you can make it up to me.’ She gave her another kiss before letting go to sit at the table.

Quinn resumed working on her dough. ‘What are you going to do tomorrow?’

‘Find a new job.’

If only this one would stick. For the first time she felt a little uncertain. This was supposed to be the easy part, but it didn’t feel easy right now. She pushed the feeling down, she was a Snyde. Snydes always bounced back. So what if she had a little trouble, nothing was too big for her. She could do this. Maybe she’d try the dreaded desk job. As long as they didn’t make her clean up other people’s messes it couldn’t be as bad as the reversal squad. Might as well try something new, until she figured out what she wanted. She could start at the ministry, plenty of desk jobs there. Knowing herself it would be mere hours before she had a new job, she could be quite convincing if she wanted to. It would be fine.

[hiddenobject-fanblog]

His Soul (Chapter 14)

Me And You

Summary: After saving the abducted collectors, you were trusted with Curioso's box. What seems like a dangerous possession slowly turns into an opportunity to learn more about this creature and his curse. Can you earn his trust, and possibly, his affection?

Pairings: Curioso/Reader, Curioso/The Detective

--

Your eyes were narrowed as you focused on your breathing - trying to utilize your nose as much as possible while you jogged on the uneven terrain. You hadn’t gone on a run like this in awhile. The cool air felt good as it hit your face and roughly blew through the strands of your hair. You grinned when you made it to your desired location - the top of a small mountain overlooking your town below. You remember coming here in your early days, making use of your healthy bones while you adapted to the new work you were overtaking. 

You shrugged off the backpack from your shoulders. Bringing the box with you was a testament of your agility, and you decided it was not something you were going to do so often. You felt more tired than you used to…it must be because you were aging , and not because extraneous exercise was more difficult than it used to be.

“We’re here,” You announced. You set Curioso’s box on the lone bench overlooking the edge and placed your fists on your hips proudly. 

“Am I allowed to come out now?” Came your friend’s voice. 

You grinned and dipped your head in permission. “Go ahead.”

You were expecting the bright flash that came with his entrances, so you had your eyes closed before it even happened. When you blinked them back open, you found the tall jester staring out into the vast sight before you. He seemed to be frozen in place. You took this opportunity to sit down and get some rest. You took a swig from your wattle bottle while dabbing the sweat from your forehead. 

“It’s wonderful,” He sounded amazed. 

Your own eyes flitted to the stars and satellites in the sky. Light pollution made it a bit more difficult to find constellations nowadays, but it was still a lovely sight, nonetheless. One you’d been hoping to share with somebody else. It was fortunate not many people knew about this area, and you had purposefully left later in the night so less people would be out and about. Sure, it was a little darker and colder than you were used to, but…as long as you had some company, you didn’t feel as uneasy about it. 

Curioso was soaking it all in, and you couldn’t help smiling while you watched him. 

It had been a couple weeks since you learned of his past and read the infamous book Andrew handed to you. The two of you had been settling into a routine, and now you could easily recite the days you spent with Curioso. Your mornings were filled with companionship as the jester would always greet you from your bedroom and watch you make your breakfast. Then he’d keep conversation with you while you read the paper, and follow you down into your office to see what work you had for the day. What happened after that varied - sometimes you got calls, visits from interested clients, or nothing would happen at all. Either way, your friend was more than satisfied by simply watching you write and work, or would help you pass your time by organizing things and tidying up for you. 

He hadn’t lied - he was happy to fulfill the duties you asked of him, which was to upkeep your office and apartment. You sought out his help to sort your paperwork and work out a better system for your desk. He did all of these things and went above and beyond - becoming your faithful assistant in the hopes that you would make him your partner in return. 

You’d only gotten a call to visit the police department and investigate something small. Despite promising him he would only be bored out of his mind, Curiso still insisted on joining you. He remained in his box while you carried it on your person, getting to see you in action once more and offering his own commentary and theories on what you were doing. 

You hoped you would get a big case again soon. Having Curioso witness the mundane days of your life wasn’t…the best thing in the world, and made you a little insecure about how highly he viewed you. But if this changed his impression of you in any way, he didn’t show it at all.  

Things were going slow once more, so tonight, you decided to get moving again. You were determined to take more walks around the park and resume your morning jogs. An idea popped into your head, and you invited your jester along, who was more than happy to actually get out of the house and have another glimpse into the real world. You hadn’t let word out about where you were going and what you were going to show him, in the hopes that it would be a surprise. 

…So now, here the two of you were, listening to the leaves rustling in the wind and crickets chirping around you. Your eyes scanned across the many lights and colors spotted around the city.  You perked up when Curioso strode over and sat right beside you, crossing his legs and straightening his back. 

You bit your lip at the sound of his bells ringing with his movements. It was always so amusing to you - a constant reminder of the ensemble he was wearing. “Well? Are you glad you came?” 

“Oh, very much,” He sounded so happy that your heart ached. “Thank you for carrying me here. I’d have spared you the effort and ran right along with you, but…”

You waved your hand. “Don’t worry about it. The weight on my back’s going to help me get in shape.” 

“You look good. I don’t know why you’re worrying so much.” 

Your ears burned at the compliment. Your eyes inadvertently glanced down to your body, and you quickly looked away. “I don’t really like sitting around and waiting.” 

A moment of quietness passed as the two of you sat there and enjoyed the scenery. He clasped his hands together and turned to you curiously. “Does it ever get lonely? Having to be by yourself, in anticipation for something to happen..?” 

Your lips fell as you dwelled on your days before getting the box. Yes, you did spend your time dawdling around your abode, trying to distract yourself and ignoring the fact that you were alone. You had no significant other, no pets, no roommates…only Audrey down the street, who you saw nearly every day, but your visits together only lasted so long. You thought of the hollowness you always felt when she’d leave, where you’d have to figure out yet again how to bide your time. 

But you didn’t feel that way anymore. You had someone else to talk to, spend your time with. It was a striking comparison to your days in solitude from before. 

“I guess so.” 

He looked down to watch the grass moving with the breeze. “It was lonely for me, too, when I was in that box. Never knowing if I’d be let out again, or if I was doomed to spend the rest of my days there by myself…” 

You looked up with concern displayed on your features. His stare moved to his lap, where he began to fidget and flex his mechanical fingers. 

“Your company is nice, is what I’m saying,” He finished. 

“You don’t really have a say in the matter, though, do you?” You smiled sheepishly. What was he supposed to do? Insult you and risk being trapped inside again? He returned your grin. 

“Oh, but I do. Remember, Detective…I chose you to own my soul. I didn’t know if you’d ever take me out, but…thank you. For doing so.”

Your face burned again and you could do nothing but nod dumbly. Truth be told, you never would have taken him out if he hadn’t made himself appear on the box. You were under the impression he was trapped for good - witnessing him still seeing and talking with you changed everything. Letting him out was to make up for your misstep, but it was so much more than that now. You gave him his due freedom, made sure he could control whether he was in or out…and Curioso had taken that to his advantage. 

He still returned to the box, of course - when you would have nothing else for him to do and the two of you eventually ran out of conversation. You were sure he was returning there sometime during the night. He said he could rest there, so that’s what you assumed he was doing…but he was usually around you, in person, clearly preferring to be out than in . And you could understand that completely. But it was an interesting observation, all the same. 

“I made you something,” He spoke up quietly. He was avoiding looking at you, which only made you tutter in response. 

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” 

His grin stretched a little wider as a small flash came in his hands. Presented before you was a figurine of… yourself ! Your eyes widened as you looked over all the small details, admiring your signature getup when you were out in action. Your hat, your coat, your long sleeves and shoes…he even modeled you with a magnifying glass in your hand, quietly showing to the world that you were, indeed, an investigator. 

You were too stunned to speak as it was gently laid in your open palm. A teasing voice drew you from your thoughts. 

“It’s you .” 

“I-I can see that…” You cleared your throat when your voice cracked. “When did you have the time to make this?” 

Your fingers trailed over the material, feeling the paint strokes and cuts etched into the figurine. It was clearly hand-crafted. You were well-aware Curioso could conjure up anything with his magic; back in Andrew Collin’s house, it was usually the scales of judgment he’d hold while you mulled over the awaiting fate of the collectors. Nowadays, it was anything you asked for and whatever he wanted to hold and use. 

A smirk grew on your face when you remembered the first request you made - which was an encyclopedia. You’d only been teasing him and wanted to see if he would actually do it. He did, but not without calling you a ‘nerd’ , and plopping a big book in your lap whose pages were filled with nonsense. You knew he did that on purpose, and you remember how hard you had laughed. It was a good memory. 

But this …he took his time making it; you could tell how many hours was poured into its execution. He was undoubtedly talented. 

“When you were sleeping and I had nothing else to do, I’d go in my box and work on it. It must’ve taken me about a week…do you like it?” 

Your eyes glistened as your sight became slightly blurry. “I do. Thank you.” 

This was when he shifted himself on the bench, appearing uncomfortable but clearly having something else to say. “I…I also made something else, to go along with it, but…you don’t really need it…” It looked like he sucked in a breath with the way his chest expanded. “Actually, forget I said anything-” 

‘What? No. Show me what you made.” 

His mask turned away before something else was conjured in his hands - a taller yet thinner figurine of…himself. It was still admirably made and well-painted. You couldn’t help grinning when you saw the sight. The opportunity to tease him was just too good to pass.

“Self-absorbed, much?” 

“It’s not for me ,” He snapped. You hunkered back down and he bowed his head in apology. “It’s..to go along with yours. The Detective and their partner! A-At least, that’s what I was hoping it would convey…” 

You swiped it from his hands with a smug smile. “Alright, then. I’ll keep it.” 

“You - You really want it..?”

“You made it, didn’t you? Like you said - they’re a team, so it’s better if they’re together. You know?” 

Curioso let out a nervous, disbelieving laugh. Like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. But you made your point by lifting your head and holding the figurines close to your body, turning away from him protectively. 

“They’re mine, now, so don’t even think about asking for them back.” 

“Of course not..!” He was still chuckling. You enjoyed the sound - you’d never heard him laugh so genuinely. It was a sound you instantly grew addicted to. “I have so many in that box. In fact, if you want any more-”

“No, no. Only these .” You lifted them up for emphasis. He leaned over to ruffle your hair. 

“And you can keep them.” 

Heat returned to your face as you looked down at what you were holding. Suddenly, you were breathless, uncertain. “I…don’t have anything to give you. It never really occurred to me-”

“-You don’t owe me anything. Just bringing me out here is plenty.” 

“Come on. A walk this short and you give me handmade figurines that probably took you weeks to make?” 

“It’s what I’ve been doing for decades..! And really, it’s not the walk itself that’s the gift, but the freedom you give me. Your company. That’s what I get out of this.” 

“My company? A gift ? What an absurd thought.” 

“People have to pay to have you around, don’t they? I get that for free.” The white of his teeth became illuminated by the moon above, and you felt hypnotized by the sight. Were they always that sharp? 

“I, um…” Words failed to leave your tongue. You found your mouth was dry and had to swallow. “I never did ask you about an allowance, or anything you wanted in return for all you’re doing for me I know you wanted to join me on my cases, but if there’s anything more-” 

He ‘tsked’ at you. “Detective! Have you forgotten I am your loyal servant? You need not offer me anything.” 

“But surely there’s something else I could give you..? I don’t really like having a servant. I don’t even like people paying for me–” 

He stretched out his legs and pretended to crack his back, despite the lack of bones in his invisible body. “As you said, I am your friend, not a servant. Doing friendly things for you. As your truest friend.” 

You carefully set down the figurines beside you and took in a deep breath of the fresh air. Well, as much as the pollution and smog would allow it to be. There were still remnants of a blush painted on your face, in disbelief at the gift given to you and his reasoning for it. You’d never really been given a gift like that before…’thank you’ presents from some clients, sure, but nothing this…personal. 

“Curioso?” Your eyes narrowed in thought as you looked out into the darkened horizon. “If you could have one thing in the world, that’s not getting your body or your freedom back…what would it be?” 

He jumped up in his seat. “Is it time for 100 questions already?” 

“Come on. I’m being serious.” 

He joined your view and you heard him clicking his teeth together. What a curious sound. “I already have it.” 

You arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “Do you?” 

“Yes. A companion - a friend. To make my life a little more...full.” He turned to you quickly. “And what about you? What would you have?” 

You looked down. Your feet were close to his - calves nearly touching but not quite. It was then you realized the small space between you two. You’d been huddled next to him without any second thought. It just felt so…natural. He was your best friend, wasn’t he? You’d been living with him for a bit now. Closeness wasn’t so strange. It wasn’t anything you thought about at all. But here you were, sharing it with him. Like it wasn’t something you were ever deprived of. He wasn’t even warm - the feel of his artificial ‘skin’ was rather cool with the weather tonight. 

You really wanted to say, ‘someone to love’ , because that’s what’s been missing in your life, hasn’t it? A close partner to share your living with, to come home to and wake up beside? A friend was nice, but you already had Audrey. Two friends were…compensating for something, surely. Not that you couldn’t have as many friends as you wanted, but you would always be missing something closer. 

Something you never bothered to reach - focusing on your career and dismissing all attempts at socializing at bars and clubs. But now, the itch was inside you again, regretting what you have and haven’t done in these years. You only had so much time to live, and you didn’t want to spend it alone. 

Meeting his imaginative eyes, a smile played across your face. “I already have it, as well.” 

Except you knew you were telling a lie. With the curious tilt of Curioso’s head, he didn’t seem to believe you, either. But he said nothing, and you figured this was for the best.

[the-fiction-witch]

Promo Copy

Media TMR AU

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Cute

I walked as quickly as one could walk in a public place and not be accused of stealing things doing my best to rush through the almost empty pedestrianised street. Many of the lights are just turning on, a few of them still surrounded by darkness. The shops all shut up with only the lights in their windows to advertise some with the changing screens of various advertisements. I made sure to be fast often checking my watch until I saw the sweet navy blue wooden frame on the window and door with the cute little silver swirls on the window glass. The orange light is still on within. I rushed over and pushed open the heavy old door inhaling the sweet scent of books. The little shop is surrounded by tall brown bookshelves filled to the brim with colourful titles, a couple of tables in the centre with some discounted books and a counter to the side with some paperwork across it. The bell rolled as the door opened so I happily took a moment to enjoy the peace. I wandered inside running my fingers across the various titles checking for anything I didn't already have on my shelf.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up," his voice spoke up.

I glanced over seeing Newt standing having emerged from the backroom, his right hand on the counter beside the till, his hip playfully knocked to the left, in his dirty blue knock-off high tops with strawberry print laces, light blue jeans with old faded belt, a grey t-shirt with long sleeves and a plaid button down of various blues with both shirts sleeves rolled to his elbows, the slight silver glint of the chain below his shirt and course the huge square black glasses on his nose that always gave him a strange bug-eyed look as both lenses slightly widened his eyes one slightly more so then the other not noticeable if you glanced at him but I'd seen him enough I had noticed it a lot. His hair was the lightest brown before it couldn't be called brown any longer with a middle part, well shaped getting slightly too long passing his earlobes. "Evening," he smiled picking up his favoured green astroplains mug and having a tentative sip. "You're very co-ordinated today," I glared a little heading over and perching myself on the countertop.

"Well I figured I'd be seeing you," he shrugs, "It's not here yet Mel," "What! Why not?" "It didn't come in the delivery today," "Did you ask?" "I did, he said there's a delay something about a misprint or something -" "I'll take a misprint," "I know you would but they won't deliver them till they are perfect you know they won't," "Owww," I whined collapsing onto the counter and trying to hold back tears. "There there now. There there," he says, slowly running a hand across my hair, "You know you don't have to keep coming every day right? I'll text you when it's here and I promised didn't I? I won't sell a single copy until you get yours first out of the box." "I know, I just like to come to check just in case," I said, sitting up and narrowing my eyes, "Are you accusing me of hiding it?" He asks, putting a hand on his chest, "…maybe," "Ohh that hurts you know," "Wouldn't be the first time you've hidden something I wanted," "I had every reason to. You were going to give up on astroplains just because the new Sanderisle came out and I couldn't allow that," "You still hid it from me for a week," "Did you get to read the amazing twist?" "Yes," I sighed, "Was it everything I said it was?" "Yes," "Ohh look at that, that's my case being closed," "You are such a nerd," "Yeah, but so are you," "Well if you don't have anything for me I may as well get home, got a pile of laundry waiting for me," "Sounds like very important work, for a princess," "Don't, it's not funny," I snapped back, "Sorry, have a nice night," "You too, goodnight," "Goodnight Y/n,"

I sadly shambled home, having myself a bowl of soup and a hot bath, I picked out a black bath bomb making my water turn utterly like a dark void. I scrubbed myself and enjoyed the water until it went cold. I then climbed out wrapping my towel around myself tightly, I dried off put my hair in a plait put on my nightie climbed into bed and left on my little salt lamp to light the room with a sweet orange glow. I laid in bed for what felt like hours just on my phone listening to fan theories, reading fan concepts, and any information I could find within the many depths of the internet around the tower-bound series and of course the upcoming book while also intermittently texting with Newt.

"Ughh I need to sleep" I sighed putting my phone down and doing my best to get some goddamn sleep. I hurried through the darkening city streets, a few people still hanging around as the bars and clubs were popular on a Friday night, so I hurried through and almost jumped through the door. "Is it here?" I asked, seeing Newt sitting at the counter, with his tea in hand. Today in red high tops, his black skinny jeans, white shirt and rosey brown jumper "Humm?" "Don't be dumb," "I don't know what you're talking about," he says returning his focus to some paperwork on his desk. "Newt! Please," I whined, "Just tell me if it's here today," I begged sitting on the counter. "Patience is the most useful thing we have as humans Y/n," he said. "I don't want to be patient, I wanna read my book," I whined. "I want a million pounds, I want a Jaguar E type, I want a twelve-inch erection. It doesn't mean any of those are likely to happen any time soon," "Why not? I thought this place was profitable?" "It is, not millionaire with an E type profitable," He explained, "and most of it comes from you anyway, and all the retired people in this area who don't know how to use the internet. If any of their grandkids tell them about ordering books online my business is gonna take a nose dive," "Newt, there will always be people who want to hold a book in their hand, wonder the book store isle and smell that sweet papery scent", "Yes, crazy people like you." he chuckled, "With book obsessions." "I'm not obsessed!" "Aren't you?" He smirked, as he got something from under his desk pulling up a book between his middle finger and thumb and giving it an inviting shake, and it was then I truly noticed it was the new tower-bound book.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" I Yelped snatching it from him, "Promo copies arrived today," he smiled, "Eeeeeeeeeee! Thank you so much!" I smiled hugging him and the book so tightly, "You're welcome Y/n" He chuckled, I happily and excitedly held the book flicking through the first few pages "Hey! Nope this isn't a library you know the rules," "But I need to know," "You can wait till you get home," "Fine," I sighed, "Apparently Princess Astrid is going to choose her suitor!" "Haven't they said that about the last three books?" "It's been confirmed," "If you say so," "I'm mildly afraid," "Why?" "what if it's disappointing?" "You've waited a year for his book," "Exactly, what if it's really disappointing? what something stupid ruins it all? What if! she picks Zane!" "What's wrong with that? It's an ending isn't it?" "But Prince Zane of Warlow. He's a dick. he's a gothy, angsty little shit. He's weird and creepy and he's not kind to Princess Astrid. Prince Ulfred is a sweetheart he cares for the skyflies, he's a sweet, handsome, honourable prince." I explained, "and Sandtala would have a way better union with Vegar than with Warlow." "Okay, Okay. I get it you're deep on team Ulfred," He rolls his eyes "She's never going to write a concrete answer, why would she it sells too many books plus no matter which Princesse Adtrid picks half the fans will be angry so why would she ever write either answer," "she has to finish the book sometime," "she does but she's going to milk this you know it." he explained, "Besides, I don't think Princess Astrid should pick either," "Ohh who would you have her pick?" "What does it matter?" "Tell me," "Lavos," "Lavos Illken!" I complained, "The damn kitchen boy?" "He's not a kitchen boy," "Ohh right yeah Queen Celestia made him a knight in the last book," I said sarcastically, "But it doesn't actually mean anything he wasn't actually knighted or anything, she only did it because she knows just how much Lavos spends time with Astrid and it makes sense to give her best friend a sword you know in case shit happens. He's a ceremonial knight, not even that he's been given a cheap sword and a blanket cape so he can play with the princess," "Ohh he wants to play with the princess," "What's that support to mean?" "Have you read the same book I have? Have you read the long stares he gives her, the way he blushes for her compliments, if any character worships the very ground princess Astrid walks on it's Lavos. He Worships her, he adores her, it's obvious." "Their friends," I rolled my eyes, "Best friends, but he loves her." he smiled, leaning his elbow on the counter and his chin on his hand, "It's obvious," "If you say so, but she can't marry a commoner anyway so it's irrelevant. Now if you're done with your crazy theories I have a book to read," "Alright, Tell me how you like it," "I will, but no spoilers," "I know, Have a nice night Y/n," "Goodnight Newt," I smiled taking the book and scampering home as fast as possible.

[kaesaaurelia]

better to ask for permission than to expect forgiveness

For @whumptober day 3, using the prompts "journal" and "solitary confinement," and the lyric prompt, "Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon."

Muriel didn't exactly think what they wanted to do was entirely, one hundred percent, completely within what they were supposed to be doing, and this caused them considerable distress. Which was nonsense, really, because they could have just stopped thinking about it and stopped wanting it, and then not had that distress! It was very silly! They were aware, of course, that they were being very silly. And they should stop, because they were not a silly person.

But, because they kept wanting it, they had gone to the trouble of making an appointment with the Supreme Archangel to ask for permission, because everybody knew it was better to ask for permission than to expect forgiveness, especially when permission usually only required filling out ten to fifteen forms and forgiveness was much more paperwork heavy, at least as far as they were aware. They had never had to seek forgiveness. But! Permission! Significantly better overall. Potentially even attainable.

And so they had gone and made the appointment and waited out the time, and when they got to see Aziraphale he looked… smaller than they expected, and so tired, which was funny, because of course he didn't need sleep, and he ought to be happy, being in Heaven and all. (Even Crowley talked about how happy he must be in Heaven a lot, although Muriel was beginning to wonder if he meant a different kind of happiness that was maybe, actually… not that?) "Ah. So nice to see a friendly face," said the Supreme Archangel, looking up from whatever he was doing at his very messy desk. And he did actually seem happy to see them, although… not happy generally. Which was nice, and also very not-nice, and Muriel didn't know what to do about that, so she ignored it, because it was good enough that he was happy and it was nice. "How have you been? Are things going well with the shop? How is… er...." He trailed off.

Muriel told him all about how they'd been opening the shop at random times and not allowed anybody to buy anything, and they talked about the books they'd enjoyed and the ones they had found very confusing, but Aziraphale seemed to have been expecting more and they suddenly felt very conscious of how much time they'd spent talking about nothing at all. He was probably annoyed. So they got to the actual point of their appointment, which was permission.

"I was wondering, er, if I could have a look at my old records?" They had the password, because Crowley'd used it to access Gabriel's files, and it wasn't their fault that they remembered everything they'd ever seen and heard with absolute precision, so it really was just a matter of asking permission.

"Oh. Yes. If you'd like," said Aziraphale. He looked faintly disappointed.

"Thank you! I'll let you get on with your Supreme Archangel work now," they said.

"Right. Yes. Do stop in any time, though," said Aziraphale. "And, if you have any news about…"

"About what?"

"Nothing, never mind," said Aziraphale. He looked around nervously. "Probably shouldn't… anyway. Lovely to see you."

Muriel nodded happily at him and went to the archives to find what they were looking for. They were glad (and again, faintly guilty) that nobody was about, and nobody could see them taking their folder. It wasn't as though they were an important angel; Heaven wouldn't be needing these records. And they'd bring them right back. They were just curious.

Once they got back to the bookshop, they opened their file. It was in reverse chronological order, and it was pretty sparse, so they flipped past the first few records and got to the first thing that was new to them. Because, well. They did remember everything they'd ever seen and heard with absolute precision. And yet, their memories started several thousand years after the creation of the Earth. It was, as the humans might put it, a bit of a puzzle. And Muriel liked puzzles.

Anyway, the first thing that was new to them was a record of memory correction. Which wasn't too surprising, although it made them feel bad, for some reason, and slightly hollow, and they didn't like that very much, so they skipped it.

The second thing was something called an Incident Report. Muriel had never seen the form for this; they had never been involved in an Incident before, and it sounded quite exciting. But reading it was like reading a piece of human fiction; the angel described was -- to borrow a phrase from the thrilling tale of a human trying to obtain the mystical elixir that would make all his woes better -- almost, but not entirely, unlike Muriel. This angel had shouted at a superior. This angel had threatened to bite somebody. Muriel had never even bitten food.

They skipped past that, and leafed past a few other pages, anxious to find something familiar, something that felt like them. They stopped, finding a form in their own handwriting.

They were requesting reassignment from Heaven back to Earth. Which had apparently been their prior assignment. Muriel did not understand, and their confusion increased as they read on.

Reason for request: I am beginning to think this scrivener assignment is not as entirely necessary as had been previously represented, as not a single person has had need of my services for over a century. I'm aware of some of my performance problems in the past on Earth, and I know I can do better. Also, and I apologize for being selfish, I cannot continue on in an empty white void for an indefinite period of time. If I cannot be reassigned to Earth at this time I would like to request that I be permitted some sort of conversation with… someone? Sometimes? Really, just somebody telling me to have a nice decade would be an improvement. Or a brief chat about the weather.

Here the phrase "lack of" was inserted with a carat above "the weather." Muriel nodded; they took pride in their dedication to precision and accuracy, at least where it did not interfere with the will of Heaven. Sometimes the will of Heaven was a bit hazy, unlike the weather in Heaven, which was always nonexistent.

They continued reading, though it was a bit more difficult, as their handwriting suffered a noticeable decline, even before they ran out of lines on the form:

Look, I'm so sorry I know I keep requesting this, but I just can't keep going on as I have. I'm going to go mad. Just let me talk to someone. They don't even have to be a real person! And I promise I'll only talk about nice things. I just know something needs to change for me, or I won't be an asset to Heaven at all, I'll be broken. I know that's not a thing that's supposed to happen but I think, as the events of the past few millennia can attest to, things that aren't supposed to happen happen all the time and it would be stupid of us to keep pretending they don't. I'm not stupid and I'm not going to pretend I am for the benefit of some middle managers who don't understand the conditions we're working in on Earth.

Muriel frowned at the form. This seemed utterly unlike them. And yet, there it was, in their own handwriting. Somebody had stamped DENIED over the form in gold, and as they leafed through the file they found at least a dozen more forms, almost identical but for not-Muriel's pleas for Something To Do, with the same DENIED stamp glimmering on each.

They felt like they had been punched in the stomach. Not that that had ever happened to them. Or that they knew how that felt. But it felt like… that. Muriel didn't know if they could put it into words describing experiences they had actually definitely had and remembered.

[nationwide-veteran-attorneys]

Top Tips for Finding the Best VA Disability Attorneys Near You

Perhaps the difference between a successful claim and an unsuccessful one lies in finding the right VA disability attorney. The veteran who is navigating a VA disability claim knows how overwhelming the process can be and fills pages upon pages with paperwork. Many veterans would ask questions like, “How do I find the best VA lawyers near me?” or “What makes a VA attorney near me the best for my case?” With so many choices, it is great to be familiar with what to look for and how to select someone who indeed has your back.

Whether you’re an initial claimant seeking VA disability benefits or appealing a denied claim, an attorney with experience is instrumental in helping you avoid pitfalls and navigate your way in the legal system. This book covers several top tips that make the search for the lawyer for VA claim near you smooth and successful.

1. Look for VA-specific expertise

A “VA disability lawyer near me” often implies any attorney local to the individual, but VA claims have a very specialized nature. Not like other legal concerns, VA disability law is specifically very technical, requiring an in-depth knowledge of the relevant VA regulations, the VA claims process, and medical documentation. It would be a great advantage to have an attorney with expertise in VA disability claims. They understand the intricacies and know how to identify evidence to help strengthen and formulate a strong case.

Not all lawyers have expertise with VA disability cases, so make sure to ask about their experience. Use search terms such as “VA disability claims attorney near me” or “VA disability claim lawyers” to find the best lawyer online, and then ask if he had any previous cases that are similar to yours. Experienced VA attorneys near you will be well aware of all the latest updates in VA laws and become accustomed to the veterans’ challenges and prove the cases for their disability claims.

2. Read Reviews and Get Referrals

Word-of-mouth and reviews are excellent tools when you are seeking the “best VA disability lawyers near me.” A considerable source to get referrals will come from your fellow veteran communities. Many veterans share experiences online or in support groups found in the local veteran areas. A VA attorney that has glowing reviews means that he successfully worked on similar cases, which led him to positive conclusions.

As you’re looking for “lawyers for VA disability claims” or “VA claims lawyers near me”, take some time to go through reviews and testimonials on many different platforms. You can find a better view of the communication approach and the responsiveness of the attorney and his success rate. Just remember, if he’s got a super track record with amazing reviews it probably also means many other people want him for their cases so you’d best get in touch early if you think you might need them.

3. Think of Their Location and Availability

One of the main advantages of having a “VA disability claims attorney near me” is accessibility. Sometimes you really would need to talk with your attorney when dealing with a VA claim. And an attorney located nearby may indeed be easier to meet with in person. This is mainly helpful in discussing personal or sensitive details for your case. Also, an attorney who is well aware of the region may also have experience dealing with local VA offices or judges if your case will have a hearing.

4. Ask about tuition fees and payment options

Before choosing a “VA claim attorney,” you should learn how they charge and bill for services. Most VA attorneys settle on a contingency fee basis, meaning that lawyers usually accept payment only if you win the case. This allows veterans to make minimal upfront costs. That being said, it is crucial to understand what percentage of your winnings the lawyer will take if you do win.

Ask a lawyer about extra fees for services such as filing and document retrieval. Lawyers who specialize in VA claims are aware that their clients do not have deep pockets, so it is sensible to be transparent and clear on charges. In this way, you will be allowed to make an informed decision based upon what fits your budget and your expectations. After all, how a lawyer helps you with your VA disability claim should be a step toward financial security, not more problems.

5. Evaluate Their Communication Style

When you’re dealing with a VA disability lawyer, the communication should be open and frank. You want someone who keeps you informed about what’s happening, one who helps interpret the hard-to-understand legal mumbo-jumbo, and one who makes you feel heard. Pay attention to how easy-going he or she is in terms of questions about the process and breaking it down for you during the consultation.

A good VA disability lawyer will take the time to understand your situation, answer your questions thoroughly, and avoid rushing you. When you feel a lawyer is too busy to give you the time you need upfront, it’s an excellent indicator of how they’ll handle your case later on. Finding a “VA attorney near me” with a communication style that fits yours will make the entire claims process much smoother and help you feel more confident about the outcome.

6. Ask About Their Rate of Success in Cases

Another deciding factor is the success rate for similar cases with VA disability attorneys near you. A lawyer cannot promise a successful outcome, but a high success rate in handling VA disability claims will tell you their level of effectiveness and expertise. Ask about past successes with cases like yours-whether you’re dealing with a particular disability or a difficult appeal process.

Sometimes, attorneys will publish their case outcomes on their website, so it can be helpful to look for that information. For instance, if you’re looking for an attorney who can have your veterans’ claim increase its rating or get the claim approved when it has been denied, a lawyer who has achieved increased ratings or approvals on denied claims will likely be helpful for you. Find the attorney who has experience and results, and this improves your chances of a good outcome.

7. Schedule an Appointment and Follow Your Instinct

Lastly, upon choosing to settle on two or three “VA attorneys near me” or “VA claims lawyers near me,” schedule your appointments. Many VA disability attorneys offer free initial consultation appointments where you can discuss your case and how they would approach it. Take the time to ask some questions such as: experience, success rates, and availability.

8. Review Their Certification and Experience

An experienced VA disability attorney should have the necessary certification for VA claims. The VA provides specific certifications to attorneys for those who have met the requirements to represent veterans with cases on disability. The baseline for competence is with the certification; it’s prudent to choose a “lawyer for VA disability claim” who has it.

Even though certification is incredibly important, experience is also key. The more an attorney knows about VA claims, the stronger your case is going to be handled. They will recognize what type of medical evidence you are going to need and how to approach a complex case or speed up the process. You should inquire as to how much experience this attorney has-in particular, how many cases similar to yours he or she has handled-because that experience can make all the difference.

Final Thoughts

Determining the best VA disability attorney near you should not be a difficult task. All you have to do is to refer to these tips — check their qualifications in terms of VA-specific expertise, read reviews, ensure accessibility, and ask about fees as well as success rates — and you’ll be equipped with the necessary tools in choosing that attorney who suits your requirements. And with the right VA disability attorney on your side, he or she can hence provide that critical supporting tool that expands your chance of success.

Whether it is the creation of a new VA disability claim attorney or the appeal attorney, knowing someone knowledgeable and trustworthy is there by your side really can take a lot of stress out and allow you to concentrate on your health and wellbeing. Take the time, do your research, and find a seasoned lawyer for VA claims fighting for your benefits.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Harvest Moon

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: While investigating a killer at large, Wally crosses paths with Linda, who might be his only hope of stopping a possible serial killer.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Wally West, Linda Park, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): WallyLinda

Additional Tags: Serial Killer AU, Murder Mystery AU, No Capes AU, No Powers AU, Detective AU, Angst, Romance, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Wally West POV

Chapter Two: Crops

I followed Linda upstairs to her apartment before stopping her at the door. “Stay here—.” 

“Why?” Linda replied. I sighed, dreading the return of her indignant attitude. “I didn’t give you permission to search my apartment. I’m giving you permission to take the letter I received from a possible serial killer.” 

“You could be in danger,” I whispered, following Linda into her apartment. I put my body in front of hers, placing my hand on my gun as I looked around. Her apartment was spotless, save for the piles of paperwork and newspapers littering her tables. Linda poked around her apartment, searching for the letter, and stopped to scratch her head. “You lost a letter from a murderer?” 

She sucked her teeth as she pushed me aside to go into her coffee table drawer. “It’s right here. Do you want to check my mail?” Linda questioned. I nodded and allowed her to drop the letter and its envelope in my evidence bag. She came along with me and locked her apartment. The mailbox at the end of the hallway seemed unusually clean as she unlocked her box and checked her mail. I put on gloves and sifted through her mail until I found another handwritten letter. I placed that in a separate evidence bag. “Your partner stayed behind with the kid… Didn’t he?” 

“Yes… The young man had a pulse, so my partner stayed behind until the EMTs came,” I answered. 

She stared at me in the dimly lit hallway with a hand on her hip. “Do you care? You’re so mechanical through all of this. Everything’s so by the book,” Linda criticized. 

“If I didn’t go by the book, I’d create a space for a killer to go free. Of course, I care. I care as much as anyone else,” I replied, leading Linda to the car. 

“Wrong answer,” Linda mumbled. 

** 

The parking lot was abuzz with officers and the press. The station was filled with officers taking people off the streets. I tucked Linda away in a spare room to talk while everyone scrambled for something to do. “Linda… Can you tell me everything that happened when you received this letter? The day you received the letter,” I questioned. She tapped the desk with closed eyes as she went over the day’s events in her head. 

“I did everything the same way that I usually do. I woke up at five-thirty, got ready for work, and stopped at the coffee shop to get a coffee like I always do… And I—. Wallace! I left the office for a minute and ran into someone. They weren’t from the office, but it happened so fast that I didn’t see their face,” Linda replied. She opened her eyes and frowned at me. It was so sincere that I felt the need to reassure her. 

“Miss Park, you’re doing fine. It’s alright. Was there anything strange you noticed about them?” I asked. 

“Yeah. I saw—. The person I bumped into smelled like ink,” Linda replied, “Like he—. It was such a strong scent like he spilled ink on himself.” 

I heard shouting outside and told Linda to stay put. She nodded, letting me leave. The captain’s husband stormed through the office, shoving some of the officers around. “That’s my son! What are you doing to stop this person?” he shouted. I grabbed him and held on until he looked me in the eye.

“Mr. Jeong! Mr. Jeong… Albert,” I whispered. 

He swallowed hard and started sobbing. “My son was supposed to be at his friend’s house in Hibbardsville three days ago. I should’ve called the—. I’ve been—.” 

“Albert, can you jot down the name and number of the friend?” I asked. He cleared his throat as I escorted him to an empty desk where he wrote a name, number, and address on a sticky note. “I’ll make a call… Go to the hospital. Be with Cody. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to find out what happened between Wednesday and tonight. I’ll let you know if I find anything.” 

Albert nodded, sitting down to collect himself before Linda passed by me. She kneeled and grabbed Albert’s hands, whispering something. Albert nodded. Whatever she said put him at ease. Linda held her hands over her heart, saying something in another language. Albert replied to her, wiping his tears away. She smiled sadly, nodding at him before escorting me to the office. I waited until we were tucked away in the office, to start interrogating her. “What’d you say to him? You can’t tell him anything about—?” 

“I didn’t tell him anything about the case… Are you gonna have CSI look at the letters?” Linda asked. 

“I’ve got the letters. Stay here, alright? I’ll order you something to eat as soon as I return,” I commanded. Linda crossed her arms and sat quietly with the rest of her mail. 

I checked for poisons and dusted for prints, but there was only one set of prints on the envelopes and none on the letters. So, I opened the envelopes and read the first letter. It was handwritten. The letters were precise and mechanical, except for the D in which he wrote ‘Dear’. That letter was large, ornate, and calligraphic in design. It was the only letter that featured a color. He drew sunflowers in colored pencil, half-covering the grand block letter ‘D’. The letter went as follows: 

Dear Linda Park, 

The crops of Keystone City are plagued with disease. Our children. Rot and decay plague the minds of the youth. The death of innocence is imminent. So, I’ve made it my mission to harvest the children of this city while they are still ripe. 

I’ve had fresh grapes from the vine. Sweet sorghum grass in the summer heat. Half-shucked corn, picked prematurely. And Monday —September 26th to be exact— I return to my harvest. I’ll strip fresh cotton from its boll. Soft. He will be made pure as snow, but the eyes of justice will not see. 

I’ve chosen you to experience the realization of my perfect harvest. 

Until we meet again

The letter didn’t leave a name or nickname. I read the following letter. It had a similar format. Cotton plants were drawn around the letter D in dear. This letter read as follows:

Dear Linda Park, 

I hope this letter finds you well. If you understood my first message, my second will come to you as no surprise. And Linda… I don’t expect you to see my vision as I do. Rather… I prefer you gaze upon my work from the lens of a critic or perhaps a scholar of the divine. 

Sunflower seeds in the summertime. The fields of flowers can sometimes go for miles. Anchors and acres of sunflowers as far as you can spit. That’s where I pluck my flowers.

Until next time

I brought the letter to the office where Linda sat jotting something down in a notebook. “How’d you find the victim?” I questioned. Linda glanced at me. 

“In the letter, the killer said something-something cotton from its boll… Something-something pure as snow. Frost Farms. They grow cotton. Then, he mentioned grapes from the vine, sorghum, and corn. All the previous victims were found in places known for cultivating each of those things. The first victim was a fourteen-year-old twin boy found at a vineyard. The second victim was a baby found in sorghum grass. The most recent vic—.” Linda trailed off and looked at me. “What did the other letter say?” Linda questioned. 

“He’s corresponding with you because he expects you’ll look at him from an analytic lens… And I want you to stay in close—. Your question. Here. Leave it in the bag,” I replied. She read it and looked at me. 

“Anchors and acres? That wasn't a typo. It was a clue,” Linda whispered, “There are three farms that could’ve—.” 

“Write them down. I’ll see what I can do about getting people posted at these locations,” I answered, “And Miss Park… This letter could’ve been a trap—.”

“It could’ve been a bogus tip. I didn’t want to waste your time, Detective… Do you want to print me?” Linda asked. I nodded. I felt a lump in my throat as I thought about Cody and his parents. “And Wallace? The kid… Why did we find him alive?” 

I led her to the lab while I thought about her question. “I’d like to believe your quick thinking saved his life, but I have a bad feeling this person has other plans,” I replied.

[healeroflightanddark]

The Lucky Dragon, Chapter 5: Lasagna

Yugo glared furiously at the cookbook he was reading. He wanted to surprise his boyfriends with a lovely home cooked meal, but he was a terrible cook. Yuto was the best cook out of the five, but Yugo didn’t want to ask him for help. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he did!

Surely the blunana could manage a simple meal, right? Maybe something like lasagna? Lasagna was simple, and they had all the necessary ingredients. It was yummy too! Yugo considered for a minute, before nodding. Lasagna would be perfect!

Yugo read the recipe in the cookbook five times before he got started making the lasagna. He wanted to make sure the dish was absolutely perfect. No burning allowed!

He even decided to pop into the indoor vegetable garden to grab some fresh tomatoes and basil for the lasagna. Like the rooftop terrace garden, the indoor vegetable garden was lovingly raised by Yuri. But unlike the rooftop garden, the indoor garden was filled with fruits, veggies, herbs, and other plants that were meant for eating instead of simply looking nice.

Yugo made sure Yuri wasn’t in the vegetable garden before sneaking inside to grab the necessary ingredients for the lasagna. He didn’t want to take any chances that the cabbage-head might see him and work out what he was doing. Yuri was very smart like that, and it really wouldn’t have surprised Yugo if Yuri managed to figure out that he was making lasagna if he saw what ingredients the blunana was grabbing. Fortunately, Yugo was able to grab the ingredients and return to the kitchen without getting caught by the cabbage-head. Now, to make the lasagna!

As Yugo boiled the pasta, he thought about his boyfriends. Yuri was currently tending to his rooftop terrace garden like he had been doing for most of his day off. Yuya and Yuto were still working their shifts in the casino. And Zarc was in his office working on paperwork. A good, hot lasagna would be the perfect way to end the day and spend some time together!

As Yugo was assembling the lasagna in the pan, he thought he heard something. The blunana paused, listening carefully. Oh snap! It was Yuri! The blunana could hear the cabbage walking around upstairs. Clearly he had finished with his gardening for the day. Yugo held his breath, praying that his boyfriend didn’t come down to the kitchen. If he did, the lasagna surprise would be ruined!

Fortunately the sound of Yuri’s footsteps indicated that he was walking to his bedroom. Judging by the movement of his steps, he seemed to be walking to his bookcase, then to the sofa in his room. Then the footsteps stopped. He must have sat down to read. Oh thank Ra! When Yuri was reading, he got lost in his books and usually didn’t notice the world around him. Yugo felt pretty confident that the cabbage wouldn’t notice the smell of the lasagna cooking until it came out of the oven. And with that happy thought, Yugo slipped the dish into said oven.

“Goodnight, lasagna!” he said, closing the oven door with a smile. He set three timers, one on the oven, one on the microwave, and one on his phone. Just in case. Then he stepped back and let the pasta dish bake, playing a game of craps on a casino game app on his phone while he waited. It wasn’t a real online casino since it had no actual money involved, but it was a fun way to relax after work. All of his boyfriends also had the same app on their phones.

Fifty minutes later, the lasagna was ready to come out of the oven. And just in time too! As Yugo was pulling it out, Yuto, Yuya, and Zarc arrived home. Yuya sniffed the air. “Mmm! Something smells good!”

“Welcome home!” Yugo chirped, setting the lasagna pan on a potholder on the counter. “I made lasagna!”

Yuto’s eyes widened and he walked over to the pan. When he saw the contents, he smiled. “It looks delicious! Great job, Yugo!”

Yugo beamed at the praise. Then Yuri’s voice came from the top of the stairs, “What’s that smell? It’s making me hungry!”

“Yugo made lasagna!” Yuya said happily. Yuri hurried downstairs and looked at the lasagna hungrily. Zarc got some plates and forks out and handed everyone their dishes.

As the five boyfriends dug into the lasagna, Yugo smiled proudly. It wasn’t often that his dishes were cooked successfully. But when they were, his boyfriends all loved them!

[night-garden-fic]

Chapter Seven: Botanical Solutions

(Read on AO3)

"I guess it really was that easy."

Chapter Seven: Botanical Solutions

     Russell woke the next morning from a shallow, restless, all-too-short sleep; feeling listless, headachy, and still faintly unsatisfied.

     With what?

     (The very fact that I'm not sure?)

     His bed felt cold, bleak, and lonely after the previous evening of companionship and blood-hot wine.  But still, he rolled out of it somewhat reluctantly; feeling profoundly disinterested in whatever might lie beyond.

     Breakfast.  Paperwork.  That endless book, still open on my desk.

     Russell sighed heavily.  Somewhat dramatically, in fact, though nobody was around to hear and potentially commiserate.  The gust of it rattled the hollow of his chest and got him started coughing; which in turn sprung a small leak somewhere in his nose, releasing a thin rivulet of blood that trickled down his throat and filled his mouth with salt and rust.

     ...This is going to be a long day, isn't it?

     (You're being pessimistic again.  Stop that.)

      He decided to just assume, as was reasonable, that he'd feel better after some breakfast.

     But, after breakfast had come and gone, Russell only found himself slouched at his desk with two slices of toast sitting uselessly inside him, their sharp corners scraping at the sensitive lining of his stomach.

     He couldn't help but remember that, more often than not, the universe was quite unreasonable indeed.

     Feeling at once lethargic and agitated, Russell returned to the book in front of him, and began re-reading a particularly dense paragraph for what must have been the fifth time.

     This is just getting embarrassing.

     (Some librarian you are.)

     As that poison thought crossed Russell's mind, it brought with it a strange urge to study a certain, ancient image for any sign as to what the hell went wrong.

     (You still have to ask?)

     Mercifully, he managed to stop himself before he backtracked and lost yet another half hour.  Instead, he laid his head down on the open pages and let out something between a deep sigh and a pained groan.

     Gods, what's with all these awful noises today?

     Tori—who had been busily reshelving the magic books—took notice of her employer's plight.

     "...Sir?  W-why don't you take a break?"

     Russell propped his head in his hands, burying his face and rubbing at his tired eyes.

     "Because I just want to hurry up and finish this."

     His assistant regarded him skeptically.

     "It...  It doesn't look like you're h-hurrying much."

     She had a point, but Russell was feeling stubborn.  He returned his gaze to the book, then felt it penetrate straight through the pages and into the nothingness beyond.

     You just need to power through.

     What the hell do you think I'm doing?

     The problem was that the task, like the dry toast in his belly, felt made of nothing but sharp catching edges.  He could power through all he wanted, but it inevitably caught his mind in a thicket of thorns; stalling and trapping it, scraping it painfully raw.

     Of course, a solution had occurred to him, but it was the last thing he wanted to be considering.

     If sharp edges are the problem...

     No.  Not yet.  It's not that bad.

     (Says who?)

     Russell tried, as he had tried a thousand times before, to concentrate on the page before him; finding the argument in his head much too loud.

     You've used it during the day before.

     Seven years ago, when that was the least of my problems.

     It was Ed's idea, remember?

     (You trusted him.  You trust him now.)

     He was at a loss.  He never knew what to do with me.

     Well, do you know what to do with you?

     I obviously don't.

     (...Now look what you did.  You're not allowed to admit that.  Ever.)

     Feeling weary and detached from himself, Russell replaced the scraps of worn scratch paper and closed the heavy book.

     "...Tori?"

     At some point, while he was grappling with the book and himself, she'd moved all the way down to the children's section.

     "...Y-yes sir?"

     You can stop this here, you know.

     (I think it's a little late to stop anything.)

     "I think I'm going to have that break after all.  Watch the front desk for me, will you?"

     The young woman nodded smartly, sliding a thin picture book onto the shelf.  Russell tried not to look too deeply into the faithful, watery blue of her eyes.

     "Of course."

~*~

     Russell sat on the edge of his bed, suddenly apprehensive.

     Do we really want to go there?

     "Want" has nothing to do with it.

     In the calm sanctuary of his room, he had already begun to feel better.  The whole thing was starting to seem like a bad idea.  Or, at very least, a bit hasty.

     You can't stay up here forever, you know.  What happens when you have to go back to work?

     Well, what happens when I start down this path?

     Nothing you haven't dealt with before.

     (Why are we tempting fate?)

     Finding his hands suddenly shaky, Russell leaned forward and felt around under the mattress until he found the small wooden box hidden beneath.

     It'll just be this once.  At most, until you can finish the book.

     You also said it would just be a few good nights' sleep.  And what has it been now?  Almost a fortnight?

     (And you don't trust yourself to sleep without it, so why even count?.)

     The red blossoms had wilted inside the box; not yet brittle, but limp and somewhat tacky, their brilliant scarlet color slightly faded.

     The powder within their yellowing stems, however, was still glowing brilliantly.  It was with wonder that Russell imagined how these blooms sat up here all through the day; buried in their closed box, quietly shining to themselves in the daytime dark.

     If you're really going to do this, quarter the dose.

     Before he got started, Russell took out his handkerchief and blew his nose, clearing away last night's clotted blood.  A strange, eye-watering sensation; not exactly painful, but something close.  He noted with some morbid interest that the resulting stain was shot through with fading granules of shine, like specks of mica drifting along a dark riverbed.

     Sniffing back the few reflexive tears that blurred his vision, he finally selected a flower from the box, tapping a bit of powder onto the back of his hand.  All of a sudden, he didn't think it quite looked like enough.

     But, for daytime, it would have to do.

     This might hurt.

     ...It always hurts.

     (I'm getting used to it.)

     He hesitated for a moment, then inhaled briskly, feeling his eyes welling again with the incandescent burn.  The sun that flared inside him was dimmer than usual, but it still managed to light up his skull; a blaze of arterial red that soon gave way to the cool grey light of the room.

     As his eyes adjusted and the burning eased, Russell wondered if he'd taken enough to do anything at all.

     Maybe I should just...

     No.  That's all.

     (Just yet.)

     Russell remained perched on the edge of the bed for some minutes, smelling dirty copper mixed with nectar and salt, thinking of nothing in particular.

     He couldn't say when he began to feel different, or even exactly what was different.  It wasn't the heavy drowsiness that he'd grown accustomed to with his nighttime dose, but something more like sitting slightly to the left of himself, with a layer of thick, tempered glass forming around his brain.

     In this state, the boy in the picture wouldn't call to him.

     We no longer belong to each other.

     Not even Russell's own hands, folded neatly in his lap, seemed quite like they belonged to him.  His head floated somewhere above his body, finding it an awfully silly thing to have to carry around.  The sensation was slightly disturbing, and he began to think that he'd just made a grave mistake.

     It's okay.  This is just how you need to be right now.

     ("Right now" can be a very long time.)

    He shook his head, then patted his cheeks briskly, gently shocking himself into a modest alertness.

     Back to work.

     Before heading downstairs, Russell stopped by the bathroom mirror, just to make sure everything was in order.

     Shit...  I'm still bleeding.

     Lucky for him, it was a weak trickle, and easy enough to discreetly staunch with a bit of balled-up toilet roll.

     You're okay.

     (Liar.)

     With the leak stemmed, Russell turned on the tap and splashed his face with water, then regarded himself again.  His eyes looked a little glassy, but no more than they did during his long periods of sleeplessness and melancholy.

     The only one who ever noticed that was Sabrina.

     (And Edward.)

     ...Maybe.  He's so vague and clinical about everything.

     Well, either way, I don't think either of them are coming in.  You look fine.

     (Liar.)

     Russell figured he might look a little better if he managed to smile, so he practiced a few times in the mirror, making sure to get it right.  And, when he was finally satisfied, he headed downstairs.

     Back to the Library.

     Back to the world that he had, so painstakingly, built to hold himself.

     When he returned, Tori was seated at his desk; sweet shy face buried in a romance novel, fingers absent-mindedly playing with the end of one braid.  She seemed contentedly transfixed.

     She's so gentle.  So thoughtful.

     (She works so hard.)

     Russell's blank face broke into a fond, unpracticed smile.

     "Okay, kiddo...  I can take it from here."

~*~

     I guess it really was that easy.

     Though he was still reading through a thick haze, Russell supposed that this one—medicinal, self-induced—was a degree less noxious, at least for the time being.  He did notice he wasn't retaining as much as he'd normally like, but the pages kept turning.

     And that, he figured, was good enough.

     Where have I heard that before?

     Russell knew he had a tendency to sacrifice all kinds of things on the altar of "Good-Enough."  Good-enough sleep, good-enough eating, good-enough parenting, good-enough days.

     And now—somewhat blasphemously—good-enough reading.

     On one hand, when he was stuck in the past, or not sleeping, or drifting in a medicated haze, or simply in a protracted low mood, accepting good-enough was one of the few mercies he could offer himself.

     On the other, he'd all but forgotten how to ask if things could be better.

     All he knew was that they could, of course, be worse.  So he sat complacently at his desk, making good-enough progress through the dense book, and wanting for nothing else.  Until, eventually, the small dose wore off; the sharp, snarled, distracted feeling returning with a vengeance.

     Ignoring a chorus of troubling impulses, Russell sat the thick volume aside and took up his paperwork.

     Now you know it works.  There's always tomorrow.

     And the next day?

     (And the next, and the next, and the next...)

     ...I'll handle it when the time comes.

     He shuffled through the papers on his desk, placing them in the familiar, baroque order of priority that made sense only to him.  Most of it was correspondence relating to the acquisition of new and rare books, which still filled him with a giddy excitement.  Russell took out his pen and letterhead, and set to work.

     Russell worked steadily for an hour and a half.  Midway through, Tori left to head back to the farm, whispering her shy goodbyes and leaving him alone with the still silence of the Library, broken only by the hush of paper on paper.

     Until, just as he was about to wrap up for the day, an unseen visitor's sudden voice sent him leaping out of his chair, every nerve buzzing and crackling as his body readied itself to fight for his life.

     "...Hey, Russell!"

     Russell whipped around so fast that it felt as though his brain didn't quite rotate along with his skull, and was met with a rather confused-looking Raguna.

     "Oh...  Hello, Raguna."

     All at once, his shoulders sagged.  He stood there panting for a moment, then swallowed hard, as though trying to gulp down his own pounding heart.  Raguna shuffled his feet awkwardly.

     "Um...  Hi."

     Poor kid's probably just as startled as I am.

     Though the way he'd just reacted certainly didn't show it, Russell genuinely liked Raguna.  The young farmer was a likable man to begin with, and the fact that he was Tori's beloved husband, Cecilia's dashing hero, and something of a regular in the Library's magic section didn't hurt.

     But he was a strange combination of stealthy and boisterous, and didn't have much of a sense of his own volume.  So, needless to say, this wasn't the first time he had sent Russell flying.  He'd gotten a bit better about it since learning the broad strokes of Russell's past, but one can only do so much about one's natural mannerisms.

     Russell exhaled slowly, then pasted on a well-practiced smile.

     "Yeah...  Hi.  So! What brings you in?"

     Raguna lowered his voice considerably, and Russell was a bit touched at the effort.

     "Sorry I spooked you there...  Anyway! Ceci and Nicky are hanging out at the farm, and I don't know how exactly we got on the subject...  But now they're wanting to stay over so they can help me out with the Monsters in the morning.  I just came from Sabrina's, and she's okay with it, so..."

     (...No.  I want her here.)

     "I don't have any problem with it.  Just bring her back in one piece, okay!"

     Russell smiled, stuffing down his strange initial objection.  He didn't know where it had come from, only that it was accompanied by a vague, yet oddly sickening dread.

     Raguna grinned in return.

     "I always do!"

     A private, morbid joke.

     "And I really appreciate that...  Thanks for telling me."

     Try, "she owes you her life, you know."

     "No problem.  See you around, Russell."

     Try, "which means, I might actually owe you mine."

     "Yeah...  See you...  We should be getting some new magic books in next week."

     Raguna beamed at the good news.

     "I'll be there!"

     With that, he was out the door and down the street, spreading his noise and cheer elsewhere.

     Then the empty Library was silent once more; so silent that it made Russell's ears ring.

     He sat down and listened to the ringing for a few minutes, felt as his heart shook off the last of the racing terror.  His body was calming down, but his mind still felt dull and stunned.  He hated it, how a particularly acute startle could sometimes take him out of commission for hours.

     Years ago, Edward had told Russell that this would improve with time, but he was still waiting.

     You could...

     ...We're not doing that.

     If you just get right in bed, it won't mean anything.

     It's barely evening.  That would mean something in and of itself.

     You didn't even want to get out of bed in the first place, remember?

     Russell rubbed his aching temples, then took his pen and signed the last letter of the day, hoping the recipient would forgive the great black gash of ink sprawling over the paper, marking the moment when Raguna made him jump.  With a sigh, he picked up the pen one more time

     P.S. Noisy client, sorry.

     A quick arrow pointing up at the mess, and he figured he'd done what he could.  The letter went in an envelope, and Russell dragged himself from behind his desk.  Finally, he could lock the door for the night.  The heavy metallic chunk of the bolt sounded like closure, and a job well done.

     I'm not going to bed, but I guess we could compromise.

     Still feeling somewhat dazed, Russell left the silent, dust-scented world of the Library and retired to his small kitchen.  He paused for a moment, wondering if he might be playing with fire.

     It's all out of your system.  You'll be fine.

     Indeed, he could feel for himself that the calm sedation of the Lamp Grass was gone without a trace.

     It was time for something else.

     Russell reached into one of the higher cabinets and took down a bottle of cheap red wine, then rummaged through a messy drawer until he found the corkscrew.  He almost reached for a water glass to drink from, but thought better of it.  Even though he wasn't quite sure if he'd kill the bottle, he wasn't sharing with anyone, so it felt pointless to dirty a cup.

     The cork was almost deafening in the thick evening quiet of the house, but Russell was prepared for the sound, and remained impassive.  With the bottle open, he considered his options for a few moments, then slid down to sit on the floor.  Sitting at the table, too, seemed a little pointless when he would be the only one drinking.

     Kind of sad, when you think of it that way.

     Well, I don't.  I'm just being pragmatic.

     He took a long drink from the bottle, then sat it down on the floor beside him.  The wine was plain and flat, devoid of any fortifying heat or spice.  But its dark red taste still made him think of the previous night.

     Of Edward, and the moon, and what he might not even know he didn't know.

     As he took another sip, Russell felt an echo of that odd dissatisfied feeling.

     Don't bother thinking about it.  You don't even know where this all comes from.

     (That's why I can't stop thinking about it.)

     Even so, the small reminder of his night with Edward certainly wasn't a bad thing.

     I wish he was here now.

     (No, you don't.  He'd have some choice words for you today.)

     Drinking alone, he realized, was much like drinking with Edward.

     Because, at the end of the night, it always brought the same nagging feeling that he'd squandered some opportunity.  For adventure, for closure, for the formation of a memory so beautiful that it drowned out the painful ones forever.  Invariably, something that would sound ridiculous out loud.

     And, of course, he was never sure exactly what was supposed to have happened.

     So yes, drinking alone was much like drinking with Edward.

     But, it was also different.

      Specifically, it was usually worse.

     Because, of course, he was alone.

     And, alone, Russell sometimes didn't know when to stop.

~*~

     He wasn't really sure how he ended up on the edge of town.

     Originally, he had left the house thinking he might go see Edward.

     The way the taste of wine made Russell long for their night together had become almost unbearable, and he felt like he would have done anything for some company.  He was actually standing on the Clinic's doorstep when he finally realized that Edward probably wouldn't appreciate him showing up unannounced; likely just after dinner, and with a full bottle of wine under his belt besides.

     But, once he was out, he couldn't bear the thought of going back in; back to the world of dust and paper and silence.  He briefly thought of going to the Pub, but he wasn't sure he wanted to dig himself in any deeper, so he thought better of it.  Eventually, Russell decided to just go for a clumsy, meandering walk through the snow and see where it took him.

     He hadn't intended to go this far.

     Or, perhaps he had.

     Didn't want to admit to yourself where you were actually going?

     No, he truly didn't.  Didn't want to admit that, to some terrible end unknown even to himself, he was basically going out of his way to further damage his own mind.

     You know how this might make you feel.

     I don't even know where I'm going.

     (Yes, you do.)

     I'll just stumble across it.

     It's not the kind of thing you can "just stumble across."

     (Do you not realize this whole argument is a paradox?)

     Paradoxical, accidental, intentional, sickly self-damaging...  Whatever it was, he'd done it.

     Russell found himself walking the road that led out of Kardia.

     Where the dead tanks still sat, too heavy and overgrown to move.

     He'd known, of course, that they'd been here for some time.  Their very presence was one of the things that hovered over him on those long, sleepless nights.  Many times, he'd dared himself to come out here, just to see, just to...

     (Finish what I started?)

     ...He wasn't really sure, now that he'd finally taken himself up on it.

     Like drinking with Edward, or drinking alone, there was a sense of deferred closure.  The tanks were slightly smaller than he'd been remembering, and were so inert that they might as well have been any overgrown boulder on this shady, wooded path.

     Why are you surprised?  It's always smaller than you remember.

     (Can people help how they remember things?)

     Tentatively, Russell extended a shaky hand.  Then, brushing a few dead vines aside, he placed it on the frigid metal body of the tank.

     He waited for a while, but he didn't feel anything but cold.

     And half-drunk.  And stupid.  And a little pathetic.

     After a while, his knuckles began to ache, and the skin of his palm began to tingle, so he pulled his hand away and stuck it in his pocket, which didn't seem all that much warmer.

     Still feeling muzzy and off-balance from the wine, and slightly exhausted from the long walk, Russell sat down in the snow, resting his weary back against the tank's heavy treads.

     Tonight, he would watch the sunset alone.

[devildom-moss]

I request…diavolo courting headcanons with an exasperated barbatos sprinkled in

Super late, but I hope you enjoy it. I love when Diavolo causes trouble for Barbatos but Barbs just kind of manages because affection duty. I could probably have done a few more, but I think I got a good chunk of stuff. I put a few MC courting Diavolo at the end since I realized the request wasn't specific that only Diavolo did the courting and because Diavolo is babygirl/babyboy and deserves courting too.

Diavolo courting headcanons

(Diavolo x gn!MC) (SFW)

Diavolo has no idea how he’s supposed to court a human. He’s never courted anyone (except for Lucifer, in his own, naïve, convoluted and lovestruck way – and even then, he didn’t acknowledge it as courting). He’s been courted by a few brave witches and demons, but it didn’t go anywhere, so he doesn’t care to replicate someone else’s failed attempt at courting. Other than that, he’s only read whatever made it into his family’s history. His father didn’t speak about Diavolo’s mother – let alone their courtship. In short, this poor man is lost and scrambling the entire time.

He turns to Barbatos, Lucifer, and Solomon for advice. None of them are keen to help him seduce MC if they already like MC, but Solomon is the only one to actively sabotage Diavolo’s plans on occasion. Solomon has suggested that Diavolo pick one day a week to actively avoid you so you’ll want him more or that he fill your entire room up with balloons in your least favorite color so you can enjoy destroying them or that humans enjoy being watched while they sleep and doing so shows that you will protect them when they’re most vulnerable. Barbatos catches on to his weird plots and attempts to stop him if he’s at risk of troubling you. Barbatos just counts this as another reason to be a bitch to Solomon the next time he sees him.

Eventually, Diavolo decides that the best course of action is to do whatever he can to see that precious smile on your face and just be around you. He may not know what he’s doing, but he knows that nothing in any realm could feel better than when he catches your gaze in his and you smile at him affectionately.

As such, he asks you to accompany him in his study while he does paperwork late into the night. No one else has the privilege of bothering him while he works. Literally. Barbatos doesn’t allow anyone to interrupt Diavolo when he has important work to do. Diavolo sneaks you in when he asks you to keep him company. It’s actually a great environment for reading and studying. He feels more productive having you around (most of the time). Sometimes he’s distracted by his desire for you, and he takes a short break “to refocus.” If his paperwork isn’t confidential and you’re lonely, he’ll let you sit in his lap.

Some nights, Diavolo has so much work that you fall asleep to quiet music, scribbling, and pages turning. When Barbatos comes to deliver tea, only to find you asleep on the couch, he sighs and escorts or just straight up carries you to a spare room to rest. He’ll scold Diavolo in the morning, but he doesn’t put any extra effort to prevent Diavolo from sneaking you in – not after he saw how affectionately and longingly Diavolo stared at you when Barbatos sent you off to bed. Barbatos hates that he has such a soft spot for you both sometimes.

Diavolo doesn’t tell anyone, but once he establishes peace between all three realms, he wants to build an entire city in your honor. It’s one of the dreams that sustains him when he feels like a failure. He has to do this for you.

He wants his love for you written in history books. This man is down so bad, that he needs you to be remembered in the history of the Devildom. If your name died with you, he would tear the Devildom to pieces until every denizen memorized your name. You’re such a comfort in his daunting, stressful life, he needs your beauty to stain the world. This is the only way he can cope with the thought of you dying one day.

Diavolo will open entire public parks and gardens dedicated to you. If you’re shy or don’t want recognition, he does it secretly and only tells you that he opened it in your honor. Unfortunately, he always invites you to the opening ceremony, and anyone who sees the way he looks at you will know that this is all for you. He plants your favorite devildom plants or flowers that blossom in your favorite color. Usually, he includes some kind of water feature (pond, lake, elaborate fountains) or interesting sculpture. Sometimes they’re so romantic that he gets a bit jealous that other couples get to spend more time there with each other than he can with you.

With Solomon’s help, Diavolo imports your favorite human world flower and plants it somewhere hidden in the garden at the Demon Lord’s castle. He will not allow Barbatos to tend to the flowers and takes pride in the fact that he’s the only one keeping that gift to you alive. One time, he suddenly got too sick to leave his bed and couldn’t water the flowers, so he allowed Barbatos to water them. However, he sulked for a week afterwards, and Barbatos couldn’t raise his spirits no matter what he did. It was so troublesome that Barbatos decided the next time Diavolo was too sick to tend to the flowers, he would rather carry Diavolo there or transport him in a wheelchair and help Diavolo water the plants than do it himself.

The prince offers MC a lot of gifts – an excessive amount of gifts. He gives you clothes he thinks would look good on you, cute things (like charms, plushies, cups, etc.), delicious and often expensive food and drinks, and anything you seem to take interest in. This man would give you an entire armory if you wanted it. It gets to the point that it’s overwhelming (and would be uncomfortable for most humans. If you love gifts, you start running out of space to put things). Barbatos has to point out that he makes you uncomfortable if you won’t. (Or if you don’t get uncomfortable, Barbatos notes how cramped/cluttered your room is after delivering one of many gifts and informs Diavolo that he must cut back.) “My Lord, you ought to show some restraint. Certainly, MC will still adore you with a few less presents.”

Diavolo offers you his arm whenever you are walking in the same direction as him at RAD. He loves being your escort. Who else gets to say that the future king walked them to class? You have to understand that you’re special, right? He’ll offer to escort you if he has the time when he sees you around town, too. Diavolo will only stop offering if you ask him to. However, if you ask him to stop because others are being cruel to you due to his special attention, he will give you an option: he can be more secretive about his affection or he can deal with anyone who is cruel to you “in an appropriate manner.” Do not ask him to elaborate.

Speaking of being your escort. Diavolo loves to invite you to fancy parties. It’s a good way to make his intentions clear to you and any of your potential suitors (Suck it, Lucifer). Incidentally, it also sends a message to his own potential suitors (Suck it again, Lucifer). Besides, he wishes to keep you by his side in the future, so he’d like you to get more accustomed to royal affairs. But, mostly, he just likes showing off his beloved.

Diavolo is always the first person to ask for your hand at a dance – even if he didn’t invite you to the party. He’s very formal about it - he even bows to you and kisses your hand. Mephistopheles gives you shit about making Diavolo, of all demons, bow to a human. He’s a bit jealous, and he can’t stand the idea of Diavolo lowering himself or potentially harming his reputation by looking like such a lovestruck fool. (One time, Diavolo overheard this and informed Mephisto, “Ah, but I am a lovestruck fool for MC. Why should I not appear exactly as I am? Is there something unbecoming about me, Mephistopheles?” Mephisto let that shit go real quick.)

If Diavolo sees that you are stressed, upset, having a panic attack, etc, he’ll transform into his demon form and wrap his large wings around you as he holds you until you feel better. He knows he can’t protect you from everything all the time, but in that moment, he wants you to know that he will shield you from the entire world until you feel safe. If you get claustrophobic or this makes you more uncomfortable, it will break his heart a little bit, but he’ll work with you to figure out a better solution. He’ll do anything to make you feel safe and comfortable.

Diavolo spends time planning vacations with you instead of doing work around the holidays – which results in a rather annoyed Barbatos. Consequently, Barbatos forbids you from visiting the castle until Diavolo finishes his work. Diavolo ends up exhausted all week between catching up on his work and trying to plan the perfect vacation, which only frustrates Barbatos further. Eventually, he gets his work done. Barbs can’t even get mad at you because he knows you didn’t ask Diavolo to be so reckless with his time, but if you could find a way to get Diavolo to manage his time better or delegate vacation plans, Barbatos would be grateful beyond words.

MC does not need to do anything official to “court” Diavolo on their end, but any time you get him a gift, it means more than he can express – so long as you actually give it some thought. If it’s a couple’s/matching item, he will be over the moon – gushing over it around anyone who will listen. Every once in a while, Barbatos will consider asking you to avoid giving Diavolo matching presents because if he has to hear about a little acrylic charm for two weeks again, he’s going to use a glamour to make little D. no. 2 look like him and stand in his place.

You can melt Diavolo into a blushing mess if you offer him your hand or arm and escort him anywhere – but especially if you do it when getting out of a car or on the way to a party. If you ask him to dance, even if it’s somewhere secluded, he will feel adored. Whether it’s in front of the entire student body at a RAD party or a random balcony in the Demon Lord’s castle under the moonlight or in his study because a particular song started to play while he was working, he’ll be delighted and take your hand with a chuckle.

The best thing you could do to court Diavolo would be to take his hand and ask to visit either the mausoleum or wherever his father is being kept so that you can declare your affection for Diavolo in front of his ancestors/family. If you compliment him and bring an offering of flowers for his family, he might actually cry. He will never feel more desired than at that moment. If you ask for permission to be with him (although he would be equally happy if you just inform his family that you love him and plan to stay by his side), even if his father rose from his rest or his ancestors rose from the dead to deny you, he would go against them.